^, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


b£|2j8     |2.5 


m 


14.0 


IL25  11 1.4 


12.0 

m 

ill  1.6 


si 

I 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)873-4503 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notos/Notas  tachniquaa  at  bibliographiquaa 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  nnay  ba  bibliographicaliy  uniqua. 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction.  or  which  may  aignificantiy  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


□   Colourad  covara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


r~1   Covara  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 


□   Covara  raatorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataur4a  at/ou  palliculia 

□   Covar  titia  miaaing/ 
La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 


rn   Colourad  mapa/ 


D 


D 


D 


n 


Cartaa  gAographiquaa  an  coulaur 


Colourad  inic  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  blacic)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


□   Colourad  plataa  and/or  iiluatrationa/ 
Planchaa  at/ou  iiluatrationa  an  coulaur 

□   Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RaM  avac  d'autraa  documanta 


Tight  binding  may  causa  shadowa  or  distortion 
along  intarior  margin/ 

Laraiiura  sarrie  paut  cauaar  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
distorsion  la  long  da  la  marga  intAriaura 

Blanic  laavas  addad  during  rastoration  may 
appaar  within  tha  taxt.  Whanavar  possibla.  thasa 
hava  baan  omittad  from  filming/ 
II  sa  paut  qua  cartainas  pagas  blanches  ajoutiaa 
lors  d'una  rastauration  apparaiasant  dans  la  taxta, 
mala,  lorsqua  cala  Atait  poaaibia,  caa  pagaa  n'ont 
paa  «t«  filmAas. 

Additional  commanta:/ 
Commantairas  supplimantairas: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm*  la  maiilaur  axampl^ira 
qu'il  lui  a  iti  possibla  da  sa  procurer.  Las  details 
da  cat  axampiaira  qui  sont  paut-Atra  uniquas  du 
point  da  vua  bibliographiqua.  qui  pauvant  modifier 
una  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dana  la  mithoda  normale  de  fiimege 
aont  indiquAs  d-daaaoua. 


□  Colourad  pagaa/ 
Pagaa  da  coulaur 


T 
to 


D 
D 
E 
D 
0 


D 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checiced  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-deasous. 


Pagaa  damaged/ 
Pagaa  andommagies 

Pagaa  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pagas  rastaurAea  at/ou  peiliculAes 

Pagaa  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  dicolorAes,  tachatAes  ou  piquies 

Pagaa  detached/ 
Pages  ditachias 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


Tl 

P< 

o 

fi 


O 

be 

th 

ai 

ot 

fir 

a 

or 


pn   Quality  of  print  varies/ 


Quality  inigaia  de  i'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  metiriei  supplAmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Mition  disponibie 


Pagaa  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmad  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  particilement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuiliet  d'errata.  une  peiure, 
etc.,  ont  AtA  filmAes  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtanir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


Th 
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Tl 
wl 

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mc 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

J 

12X 

1«X 

aox 

a4x 

28X 

• 

32X 

Th«  copy  film«d  Iwr*  hM  bMn  r«produc«d  thanks 
to  the  gtnorotity  of: 

DouglM  Library 
Quaan'a  Univartity 


L'axamplaira  film4  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
ginArosit*  da: 

Douglas  Library 
Quaan's  Univartity 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poaalbia  conaldaring  tha  condition  and  lagibiiity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  In  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  tpaclfieationa. 


Original  coplas  In  printad  papar  covara  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  eovar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  iiiuatratad  Impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  coplas  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impraa<- 
slon,  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  Illustratad  Imprassion. 


Tha  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  -^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  y  (moaning  "END"), 
whichavar  applias. 


Las  imagaa  sulvantas  ont  4t*  raprodultaa  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  ia  condition  at 
da  ia  nattatA  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  at  an 
conformitA  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
flimaga. 

Las  axamplalras  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  Bn 
papiar  aat  fmprimia  sont  fllmte  an  commandant 
par  la  ptr^ntiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  salt  par  la 
darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  ampralnta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'lllustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  aaion  la  caa.  Tous  las  autraa  axamplalras 
originaux  sont  fllmis  an  commanpant  par  la 
pramlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  ampralnta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'lllustratlon  at  an  tarminant  par 
ia  darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
ampralnta. 

Un  daa  symbolas  suivants  apparaftra  sur  la 
darnlAra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha,  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  — ►  signifia  "A  SUiVRE",  la 
symbols  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 


Maps,  platas,  charts,  ate,  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thoss  too  larga  to  ba 
antlraly  inciudad  in  ona  axposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  In  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  cartas,  planchas,  tablaaux,  ate,  pauvant  Atra 
flimAs  A  das  taux  da  reduction  diffArants. 
Lorsqua  la  documant  ast  trap  grand  pour  Atra 
raproduit  an  un  saul  ciichA,  11  ast  film*  A  partir 
da  i'angia  supArlaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  A  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  bas,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'Imagas  nAcassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
iiiustrant  la  m4thoda. 


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TRAGEDIES 


Ot   THE    WILDERNESS; 


rr 


OR, 

TRUE  AND  AutHENTIC  NARRATIVES  OF  CAPTIVES, 


WHO  HAYB  BBEN«CAR|IED  AWAY  BY  THE  INDIANS  FROM  THE  VARI- 
OUS FRONTIER  SETTLEMENTS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 
FROM  THE  EARUEST  TO  THE  PRESENT  TIME.  * 

ILLUSTRATING 

THE   MANNERS   AND  CUSTOMS,   BARBAROUS  RITES   AND   CERE- 
MONIES, OF  THE  NORTH   AMERICAN  INDIANS,  AND  THEIR 
VARIOUS   METHODS  OF  TORTURE    PRACTISED  UFON 
SUCH  AS  HAVE,  FROM   TIME  TO   TIME,  FALLEN 
\^  INTO  THEIR  HANDS. 


^#,: 


^ 


BY   SAMUEL   O.   DRAKE, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  THE  INDIANS. 


'♦'.   .. 


•  ■"»■  u'.'  ■  '■ 


Happy  the  riativoii  of  this  distant  clime, 
faEreEuit     " 


■l^re  Europe'H  sons  were  known  or  Europe's  crimes. 

Chorchill. 

'Tis  theirs  to  triumph,  ours  to  die  I 
But  mark  me,  Christian,  ere  I  go, 
Tliott,  too,  Shalt  have  thy  share  of  woe  I 

Frbmiav. 


BOSTON: 

ANTIQUARIAN  BOOKSTORE  AND  INSTITUTE, 

56Cornhill. 
1844. 


.-V- 


L'? 


£%S   Dl$l^     t'<^A4 


«:'. 


0'     * 


-■-'^' 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1839, 

BY    SAMUEL    G.  DRAKE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


STEREOTTFED    BT 
GEO.   A.  ft  J.  CURTIS, 

UroUkKD  TTPB  AND  BTBBBOTTPB  VOUMDRT|  BOnOM. 


I 


^J4^ 


READER- 


This  volume  consists  of  entire  Narratives ;  that  is  to  say,  I  have  given 
the  originals  nvithout  the  slightest  abridgment;  nor  have  I  taken  any 
liberties  with  the  language  of  any  of  them,  which  would  in  the  remotest 
degree  change  the  sense  of  a  single  passage,  and  the  instances  are  few  in 
which  I  have  ventured  to  correct  peculiarities  of  expression ;  yet  I  designed 
that,  with  regard  to  grammatical  accuracy,  there  should  be  as  few  faults 
as  the  nature  of  such  a  performance  would  allow.  All  expressions  of  an 
antiquated  date  are  not  attempted  to  be  changed.  Some  redundancies 
have  been  dropped,  which  could  only  have  been  retained  at  the  expense 
of  perspicuity. 

I  am  not  unaware  that  there  may  be  persons  who  will  doubt  of  the 
propriety  of  laying  before  all  classes  of  the  community  a  work  which 
records  so  much  that  is  shocking  to  humanity ;  but  the  fashion  of  studying 
the  book  of  Nature  has  now  long  obtained,  and  pervades  all  classes.  I 
have  done  no  more  than  to  exhibit  a  page  of  it  in  this  collection.  To 
observe  man  in  his  uncivilized  or  natural  state  offers  an  approach  to  a 
knowledge  of  his  natural  history,  without  which  it  is  hardly  obtained. 

We  find  volumes  upon  volumes  on  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Indians,  many  of  the  writers  of  whi9h  would  have  us  believe  they  have 
exhausted  the  subject,  and  consequently  we  need  inquire  no  further; 
but  whoever  has  travelled  among  distant  tribes,  or  read  the  accounts  of 
intelligent  travellers,  do  not  require  to  be  told  that  the  most  endless  variety 
exists,  and  that  the  manners  and  customs  of  uncultivated  nations  are  no 
more  stationary,  nor  so  much  so,  as  are  those  of  a  civilized  people.  The 
current  of  time  changes  all  things.  But  we  have  elsewhere  observed* 
that  similar  necessities,  although  in  different  nations,  have  produced 
similar  customs ;  such  as  will  stand  through  ages  with  very  little,  if  any, 
variation.  Neither  is  it  strange  that  similar  articulations  should  be  found 
m  languages  having  no  other  affinity,  because  imitations  of  natural 
sounds  must  everywhere  be  the  same.  Hence  it  follows  that  customs 
are  as  various  as  the  face  of  nature  itself. 

A  lecturer  on  the  manners  and  customs  of  certain  tribes  of  Indians  may 
assure  us  that  no  others  observe  certain  barbarous  rites,  and  that,  as  they 
by  some  sudden  mortality  have  become  extinct,  the  knowledge  of  those 
rites  is  known  to  none  others  save  himself,  and  that  therefore  he  is  the 

*  Book  of  the  Indians,  Book  i.,  p.  10. 


llanos 


PREFACE. 


only  person  liring  who  can  inform  us  of  them.  But  he  may  be  assured 
that  captives  and  other  travellers  have  witnessed  customs  and  ceremonies, 
which,  together  with  their  performers,  have  passed  away  also.  And  there 
U  another  view  of  the  matter.  Many  a  custom,  as  it  existed  flAy  or  a 
hundred  years  ago,  has  become  quite  a  different  affair  now.  From  these 
reflections  it  is  easy  to  see  what  an  endless  task  it  would  be  to  describe 
all  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  a  single  tribe  of  Indians,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  thousands  which  have  been  and  still  exist. 

These  observations  have  been  thrown  out  for  the  consideration  of  such 
•8  may  be  looking  for  some  great  work  upon  Indian  manners  and  customs, 
to  comprehend  all  they  have  been  taught  to  expect,  from  those  who  have, 
perhaps,  thought  no  deeper  upon  the  subject  than  themselves.  When  the 
reader  shall  have  perused  the  following  narratives,  I  doubt  not  he  will  be 
convinced  of  the  truth  of  what  has  here  been  delivered. 

This  is  truly  an  age  of  essay  writing,  and  we  have  them  in  abundance 
npon  every  thing  and  nothing,  instead  of  facts  which  should  be  remem- 
bered.  If  a  new  work  upon  travels  or  history  appeals,  we  shall  doubtless 
be  delighted  with  descriptions  of  elegant  scenery  and  splendid  sketches 
about  general  matters,  but  arise  from  its  perusal  about  as  ignorant  of  the 
events  of  the  history  we  desire  as  before.  Compositions  of  this  descrip- 
tion form  no  part  of  these  pages. 

I  have  on  other  occasions  stood  out  boldly  in  favor  of  the  oppressed 
Indian,  and  I  know  that  a  book  of  Indian  Captivities  is  calculated  to 
exhibit  their  character  in  no  very  favorable  light ;  but  the  reader  should 
remember  that,  in  the  following  narratives,  it  is  not  I  who  speak ;  yet  I 
believe  that,  with  very  small  allowances,  these  narratives  are  entirely 
true.  The  errors,  if  any,  will  be  fpund  only  cri'ors  of  judgment,  which 
affect  not  their  veracity. 

A  people  whose  whole  lives  are  spent  in  war,  and  who  live  by  a  con* 
tinual  slaughter  of  all  kinds  of  animals,  must  necessarily  cultivate  ferocity. 
From  the  nature  of  their  circumstances  they  are  obliged  always  to  be  in 
expectation  of  invasion ;  living  in  small  communities,  dispersed  in  small 
parties  of  five  or  ten  upon  hunting  expeditions,  they  are  easily  surprised 
by  an  enemy  of  equal  or  even  a  lesser  force.  Indians,  consequently,  are 
always  speaking  of  strange  Indians  whom  they  know  not,  nor  do  they 
know  whether  such  are  to  appear  (torn  one  direction  or  another.  When 
New  England  was  first  settled,  the  Indians  about  Massachusetts  Bay 
were  in  a  miserable  fright  from  fear  of  the  Tarratines ;  skulking  from 
copse  to  copse  by  day,  and  sleeping  in  loathsome  fens  by  night,  to  avoid 
them.  And  all  the  New  England  Indians  were  in  constant  expectation 
of  the  Mohawks  ;  and  scarce  a  tribe  existed  in  any  part  of  the  country 
who  did  not  constantly  expect  to  be  attacked  by  some  other.  And  such 
was  the  policy  of  those  people  that  no  calculation  could  be  made  upon 
their  operations  or  pretensions,  inasmuch  as  the  honor  of  an  action  de- 


PREFACE. 


pended  on  the  manner  in  which  it  was  executed.  No  credit  was  obtained 
by  open  combat,  but  he  that  could  ensnare  and  smite  uu  unsuspecting 
enemy  was  highly  to  be  commended. 

It  must  have  very  oAcn  happened  that  the  people  surprised  knew 
nothing  of  any  reason  why  they  were  so  dealt  with,  and  the  injury  for 
which  they  suffered  may  have  been  committed  by  their  ancestors  long 
before  they  had  existence ;  and  the  only  sure  means  a  tribe  had  to  avert 
retaliation  was  extermination !  Hence  the  perpetual  u  arfure  of  these 
people. 

As  there  are  a  few  other  collections  of  Indian  Narratives  of  a  similar 
character  to  this,  it  may  be  necessary  to  advertise  the  reader  that  such  are 
similar  in  title  only  ;  for  in  those  collections  the  compilers  speak  for  their 
captives,  whereas,  in  this,  they  speak  for  themselves.  Those  collectors 
have  not  only  taken  upon  themselves  to  speak  for  their  captives  or  heroes, 
but  have  so  abridged  the  majority  of  their  narratives  that  the  perusal 
of  them  only  gives  dissatisfaction  even  to  the  general  reader.  Mr. 
McClung's  "  Sketches  of  Western  Adventure"  is  a  work  of  thrilling 
interest,  but  its  value  is  entirely  lost  in  particular  instances  from  the 
above  considerations.  Dr.  Metcalf  was  earlier,  and  set  out  right,  but 
looked  back  with  his  hand  to  the  plough.  I  know  of  no  others  worthy  of 
notice. 

As  several  prominent  narratives  may  be  looked  for  in  this  collection 
without  success,  such  as  those  of  Hannah  Duston,  Rev.  John  Williams, 
&c.,  it  will  be  proper  to  apprize  the  reader  that  those,  and  many  others, 
are  contained  in  the  Book  of  the  Indians. 

I  did  not  design  to  notice  the  works  of  others,  in  Indian  history,  in  this 
introduction ;  but  accidentally  falling  upon  some  acts  of  pre-eminent  injus- 
tice to  my  former  labors,  committed  by  several  compilers,  whose  works, 
from  their  peculiar  point  of  emanation,  or  ostentatious  external  attractions, 
are  calculated  to  fix  in  the  minds  of  their  readers  wrong  impressions  in 
respect  to  the  sources  whence  they  have  drawn  their  information,  I  could 
not,  in  justice  to  myself,  let  them  pass  without  a  notice.  For  an  author 
to  spend  many  of  his  best  years  in  the  most  laborious  investigations  to 
bring  out  a  train  of  facts  upon  an  important  inquiry,  which,  in  all  proba- 
bility, no  other  would  ever  have  taken  the  pains  to  have  done,  from  the 
peculiar  nature  and  difficulty  of  the  undertaking,  or  situation  of  the  mate- 
rials out  of  which  he  had  brought  them,  and  then  to  see  them,  no  sooner 
than  produced,  transferred  to  ihe  pages  of  others  without  even  a  'demand 
for  them  upon  their  author,  is  matter  of  which  I  complain,  and,  to  say  the 
least,  is  too  barefaced'  a  piracy  even  for  this  age  of  freebooting  in  matters 
of  literature.  Had  the  author  of  the  Book  of  the  Indians  been  dead, 
leaving  but  a  single  copy  of  his  work  behind,  and  that  an  unpublished 
manuscript,  some  of  the  compilers,  to  whom  I  allude,  could  scarcely  have 
been  freer  in  their  use  of  it  without  the  hope  of  detection.  No  charge  is 
1* 


\ 


TI 


PREFACE. 


here  intended  against  such  a?  have  copied  whole  pages  into  their  ofWB 
works,  where  they  have  even  acknowledged  their  source  of  information ; 
but  I  would  point  the  eyes  of  all  such  as  nuiy  read  this  to  their  own 
pages,  which  have  been  transferred  from  that  work,  or  so  concocted  out 
of  it  as  to  induce  the  belief  that  it  was  the  fruits  of  their  own  labor.  Such 
compilers,  doubtless,  presume  only  their  own  works  will  be  read  on  the 
subject  of  the  Indians ;  or  thai  the  obscure  and  humble  author  of  the 
Book  of  the  Indians  had  no  means  of  exposing  their  piracies.  And  even 
now,  "  after  all  said  and  done,"  perhaps  Queen  Victoria  will  nev6r  read 
this  preface,  or  compare  the  pages  of  the  great  folio  "  Biography  and 
History  of  the  Indians"  with  those  of  the  Book  of  the  Indians ;  3'et  there 
may  be  those  on  this  siue  of  the  Atlantic  who  may  be  benefited  by  this, 
though  indirect,  information.  Besides,  I  am  too  late  now  to  send  a  book 
to  her  majesty,  with  the  slightest  prbspect  of  her  ever  reading  ii,  for  the 
very  reason  that  she  has  already  several  books  by  American  authors  on 
hand !  And  if  she  has  read  even  one,  is  it  to  be  presumed  she  would 
ever  read  another  ?  Moreover,  what  would  she  care  whether  Col.  Stone 
gave  me  credit  for  a  fact,  or  Mr.  Thacher,  or  Henry  Trumbull? 


f 


•-  ^il^. 


CONTENTS. 

The  following  Tabfe  conte^s  the  names  of  the  captives,  the  time  of 
their  being  taken,  and  th4^^|j|nration  of  their  captivity,  where  the  dates 
could  be  ascertained.  '  t. 


Name  of  Captive. 


When  taken.  | 


Where. 


I     Time  retotoed.      IFage 


John  Ortiz 
Mary  Rowl&ndson 
Quintin  Stockwell 
Sai-ah  Gerish 
Elizabeth  Heard 
John  Gyles 
Robert  Rogers 

Mehetable  Goodwin 
Thomas  Toogood 
Elizat|lh  Hanson 
Nehe&iah  How 

Mary  Fowler 
John  Fitch 
Isabella  M'Coy 
Peter  Williamson 

Jemima  Howe 
Frances  Noble 
Capt.  Jona.  Carver 
Col.  James  Smith 
Robert  EaStbum 
A  Mrs.  Clendenin 
Alexander  Henry 
Frederick  Manheim 

Experience  Bozarth 

John  Corbly 
Frances  Scott 
Capt.  "Wm.  Hubbell 
Massy  Herbeson 
Serg.  L.  Munson 

Ransom  Clark 
J.  W.  B.  Thompson 


1528 
lOFeb.1676 
19Sep.l677 
28  June, '89 
28  June, '89 
2  Aug.  1689 
27  Mai'.  '90 

27  «  1690 
27  "  1690 
27Jun.l724 
11  Oct.  1745 

22  Ap.  1746 
July,    1746 

21  Au.  1747 
2  Oct.  1754 

27  Jul  1755 
About  1755 
9  Aug.  1755 
May,  1755 

27  Mar.  '56 
Year  1763 
4  June,  1763 
19  Oct.  1779 

March,  1779 

May,  1782 
29iun.l785 

23  Mar.  '91 

22  Ma.  1792 
17  Oct.1793 

28  Dec.1835 

23  Jul.  1836 


Florida 

Lancaster,  Mass. 
Deerfield,  Mass. 
Dover,  N.  H, 
Dover,  N.  H. 
Femmaquid,Me. 
Salmon  Falls,  N. 
[Hampshire. 
Sal.  Falls,  N.  H. 
Sal.  Falls,  N.H. 
Dover,  N.  H. 
Great  Meadows, 

[Mass. 
Hopkinton,  N.H. 
Ashby,  Mass. 
Epsom,  N.  H. 
Delaware  Forks, 
[Pa. 
Hinsdale,  N.  H. 
Swan  Island,  Me. 
Ft.  Wm.  Henry 
Bedford,  Pa. 
Williams' Ft.  Pa. 
Green  Brier,  Va. 
Michilimackinac 
Nc"'"    Johnston, 

[N.Y. 
Dunkard'sCreek, 
[Kentucky. 
Muddy  Crk.  Ky. 
AVash'n.  Co.,  Va. 
Ohio  river 

Near  Fort  Jeffer- 
[son,  Ohio. 
Florida  [House. 
Cape  Florida  Lt. 


Nine  years 
To  12  April,  1676 
About  one  year 
Six  months 
Remark'e  escape 
Six  years 
Tortur'd  to  death 

Five  years 
Fortunate  escape 
One  yr.  Ac  6  days 
Died  in  captivity 

Six  months 
To  close  of  war 
To  close  of  war 
One  year  and  3 
[months. 
About  five  years 
About  12  years 
Made  his  escape 
About  six  years 
2  yrs.  &  8  ino*«. 
Escaped 
About  one  year 


Great  prowess 

Escape 

Escape 

Desp.  encounter 

Escape 

Escape,  8  mo's. 

Escape 
Escape 


11 
20 
60 
70 
71 
73 
109 

111 
112 
113 
127 

140 
139 
143 
147 

156 
165 
172 
178 
265 
284 
286 
333 

334 

335 
337 
342 
349 
352 

355 
357 


^5^ 


I.. 


h 


,\ 


,,;.;-,..-     ;,--,,^i,S.- 


#■-■' 


INDIAN   CAPTIVITIES. 


ii^ 


NARRATIVE 

OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  OP  JOHN  ORTIZ,  A  SPANIARD,  WHO  WAS 
ELEVEN  YEARS  A  PRISONER  AMONG  THE  INDUNS  OF 
FLORIDA. 

In  the  year  1528  Pamphilo  de  Narvaez,  with  a  commission, 
constituting  him  governor  of  Florida,  or  "  all  the  lands  lying 
from  the  river  of  Palms  to  the  cape  of  Florida,"  sailed  for  that 
country  with  400  foot  and  20  horse,  in  five  ships.  With  this 
expedition  went  a  Spaniard,  named  John  Ortiz,  a  native  of 
Seville,  whose  connections  were  among  the  nohility 'of  Castile'. 
Although  we  have  no  account  of  what  part  Ortiz  acted  iii 
Narvaez's  expedition,  or  how  he  escaped  its  disastrous  issue, 
yet  it  may  not  he  deemed  out  of  place  to  notice  briefly  here 
that  issue. 

This  Narvaez  had  acquired  some  notoriety  by  the*  manner  in 
which  he  had  executed  a  commission  against  Cortez.  He  had 
been  ordered  by  the  governor  of  Cuba  to  seize  the  destroyer 
of  Mexico,  but  was  himself  overthrown  and  deserted  by  his 
men.  On  falling  into  the  hands  of  Cortez,  his  arrogancp  did 
not  forsake  him,  and  he  addressed  him  thus :  "  Esteem  it  good 
fortune  that  you  have  taken  me  prisoner."  "Nay,"  replied 
Cortez,  "  it  is  the  least  of  the  things  I  have  done  in  Mexico." 
To  return  to  the  expedition  of  which  we  have  promised  to 
speak. 

Narvaez  landed  in  Florida  not  very  far  from,  or  perhaps  at 
the  bay  of  Apalachee,  in  tne  month  of  April,  and  marched 
into  the  country  with  his  men.  They  knew  no  other  direction 
but  that  pointed  out  by  the  Indians,  whom  they  compelled  to 
act  as  guides.     Their  first  disappointment  was  on  their  arrival 


-    ■    V 


^VM^ 


■*« 


% 


10 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


i:  •*■" 


'( 


at  the  village  of  Apalachee,  where,  instead  of  a  splendid  town, 
filled  with  immense  treasure,  as  they  had  anticipated,  they 
found  only  about  40  Indian  wigwams.  When  they  visited 
one  Indian  town  its  inhabitants  would  get  rid  of  them  by  tell- 
ing them  of  another,  where  their  wants  would  be  gratified. 
Such  was  the  manner  in  which  Narvaez  and  his  companions 
rambled  over  800  miles  of  country,  in  about  six  months'  time ,  at 
a  vast  expense  of  men  and  necessaries  which  they  carried  with 
them ;  for  the  Indians  annoyed  them  at  every  pass,  not  only 
cutting  off  many  of  the  men,  but  seizing  on  their  baggage  up- 
on every  occasion  which  offered.  Being  now  arrived  upon  the 
coast,  in  a  wretched  condition,  they  constructed  some  miserable 
barks  corresponding  with  their  means,  in  which  none  but  men 
in  such  extremities  would  embark.  In  these  they  coasted  toward 
New  Spain.  When  they  came  near  the  mouths  of  the  Mis-^ 
-sissippi  they  were  cast  away  in  a  storm,  and  all  but  15  of  their 
number  perished.  Out  of  these  15,  4  only  lived  to  reach 
Mexico,  and  these  after  8  years  wholly  spent  in  wanderings 
from  place  to  place,  enduring  incredible  hardships  and  mise- 
ries. 

The  next  year  after  the  end  of  Narvaez's  expedition,  the 
intelligence  of  his  disaster  having  reached  his  wife,  whom  he 
left  in  Cuba,  she  fitted  out  a  small  company,  consisting  of  20 
or  30  men,  who  sailed  in  a  brigantine  to  search  after  him, 
^  hoping  some  fortuitous  circumstance  might  have  prolonged  his 
'  existence  upon  the  coast,  and  that  he  might  be  found.  Of  this 
number  was  John  Ortiz,  the  subject  of  this  narrative. 

On  their  arrival  there,  they  sought  an  opportunity  to  have 
an  interview  with  the  first  Indians  they  should  meet.  Oppor- 
tunity immediately  offered,  and  as  soon  as  Indians  were  dis- 
covered, the  Spaniards  advanced  towards  them  in  their  boats, 
while  the  Indians  came  down  to  the  shore.  These  wily  peo- 
ple practised  a  stratagem  upon  this  occasion,  which  to  this  day 
seents  a  mysterious  one,  and  we  have  no  means  of  explain- 
ing it. 

Three  or  four  Indians  came  near  the  shore,  and  setting  a 
stick  in  the  ground,  placed  in  a  cleft  in  its  top  a  letter,  and 
withdrawing  a  little  distance,  made  signs  to  the  Spaniards  to 
come  and  take  it.  All  the  company,  except  John  Ortiz  and  one 
more,  refused  to  go  out  for  the  letter,  rightly  judging  it  to  be 
used  only  to  ensnare  them ;  but  Ortiz,  presuming  it  was  from 
Narvaez,  and  containing  some  account  of  himself,  would  not 
be  persuaded  from  venturing  on  shore  to  bring  it,  although  all 
the  rest  but  the  one  who  accompanied  him  strenuously  argued 
against  it. 

Now  there  was  an  Indian  village  very  near  this  place,  and 


■^r: 


-      %r 

■  ^     *-  ■  *  X 

■     •-%  ^ 

idid  town, 

■              .'     ir         ^ 

ated,  they 
ey  visited 

■ 

m  by  tell- 

gratified. 

H 

)mpanions 

H 

s'  time ,  at 

^B 

irried  with       i 

H 

,  not  only 

i^l         *                   :^mi   "' 

ggage  up- 
[  upon  the 

miserable 

^m 

e  but  men 

^^H 

ted  toward  ^ 

H 

F  the  Mi»- ' 

H     ., 

16  of  their      < 

^^^M 

to  reach 

B 

randerings 

1 

and  mise- 

1     ' 

dition,  the 

I 

.  whom  he 

^B 

ting  of  20 

B 

ifter  him. 

^H 

onged  his  ' 

^m   '" 

..  Of  this 

B 

• 

y  to  have 

^^^^^K 

Oppor- 
were  dis- 
eir  boats. 

wily  peo- 

-i'<^BB 

» this  day 

Wk                                    M 

'  explain- 

ImS 

setting  a 

fl 

itter,  and 

^m 

niards  to 

^^B 

and  one 

^^B 

r  it  to  be 

^B 

ras  from 

^m 

ould  not 

^m 

ough  all 

^^^^B 

r  argued 

.^^^^^H 

■  i>^v; 


» 


# 


f*'- 


f 


lace,  and 


*"^  'T 


«: 


.*l^i: 


?* 


l[ 


t  I* 


if 


# 


1     T<(i 


:#' 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


13 


no  sooner  hai  Ortiz  ai)|d  his  companion  advanced  to  the  place 
where  the  letter  was  displayed,  than  a  multitude  came  running 
from  it,  and  surrounding  them,  seized  eagerly  upon  them. 
The  number  of  the  Indians  was  so  great,  that  the  Spaniards 
in  the  vessels  did  not  dare  to  attempt  to  rescue  them,  and  saw 
them  carried  forcibly  away.  In  this  first  onset  the  man  who 
accompanied  Qrtiz  was  killed,  he  having  made  resistance  when 
he  was  seized. 

Not  far  from  the  place  where  they  were  made  prisoners,  ^as 
another  Indian  town,  or  village,  consisting  of  about  8  or  10 
houses  or  wigwams.  These  houses  were  made  of  wood,  and 
covered  with  palm-leaves.  At  one  end  of  this  village  there 
was  a  building,  which  the  captive  called  a  temple,  but  of  what 
dimensions  it  was  he  makes  no  mention.  Over  the  door  of 
entrance  into  this  temple  there  was  placed  the  figure  of  a  bird, 
carved  out  in  wood,  and  it  was  especially  surprising  that  this 
bird  had  gilded  eyes.  No  attempt  is  made  by  Ortiz  even  to 
conjecture  how  or  by  whom  the  art  of  gilding  was  practised, 
in  this  wild  and  distant  region,  nor  does  he  mention  meeting 
with  any  other  specimen  of  that  art  during  his  captivity.  At 
the  opposite  extremity  of  this  village  stood  the  house  of  the 
chief,  or  cazique,  as  he  was  often  called,  upon  an  eminence, 
raised,  as  it  was  supposed,  for  a  fortification.  These  things  re- 
mained the  same  ten  years  afterwards,  and  are  mentioned  by 
the  historian  of  Fernando  De  Soto's  Invasion  of  Florida.  The 
name  of  the  chief  of  this  village  was  Ucita,  before  whom  was 
presented  the  captive,  Ortiz,  who  was  condemned  to  suflfer  im- 
mediate death. 

The  manner  of  his  death  was  by  torture,  which  was  to  be 
effec^d  in  this  vvj^e.  The  executioners  set  four  stakes  in  the 
ground  and  to  tffe^e  they  fastened  four  poles ;  the  captive  was 
then  taken,  and  with  his  arms  and  legs  extended,  was  by  them 
bound  to  these  poles,  at  such  a  distance  from  the  ground,  that 
a  fire,  made  dirtKHly  under  him,  would  be  a  long  time  in  con- 
suming him.  Never  did  a  poor  victim  look  with  greater  cer- 
tainty to  death  for  relief,  than  did  John  Ortiz  at  this  time. 
The  fire  had  already  begun  to  rage,  when  a  most  remarkable 
circumstance  happened  "to  save  his  life — a  daughter  of  the 
stern  Ucita  arose  and  plead  for  him.  Among  other  things  she 
said  these  to  her  father :  "  My  kind  father,  why  kill  this  poor 
stranger  ?  he  can  do  you  nor  any  of  us  any  injury,  seeing  he 
is  but  one  and  alone.  It  is  better  that  you  should  keep  him 
confined ;  for  even  in  that  condition  he  may  sometime  be  of 
firr«»at  service  to  you."  The  chief  was  silent  for  a  short  time, 
but  finally  ordered  him  to  be  released  from  his  place  of  torture. 
They  had  no  sooner  taken  the  thongs  from  his  wrists  and 


45, 


^# 


u 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


•*. 


> 


«* 


ankles,  than  they  proceeded  to  wash  an4  dress  hia  wounds,  and 
to  do  things  to  make  him  comfortable. 

As  soon  as  his  wounds  were  healed,  Ortiz  was  stationed  at 
the  entrance  of  the  temple,  before  mentioned,  to  guard  it 
against  such  as  were  not  allowed  to  enter  there ;  but  espe- 
cially to  guard  its  being  profaned  by  wild  beasts  ;  for  as  it  was 
a  place  of  sacrifices,  wolves  were  its  constant  visitors.  He  had 
not  long  been  in  this  office,  when  an  event  occurred,  which 
threw  him  into  great  consternation.  Human  victims  were 
brought  in  as  sacrifices  and  deposited  here  ;  and  not  long  after 
Ortiz  had  been  placed  as  sentinel,  the  body  of  a  young  Indian 
was  brought  and  laid  upon  a  kind  of  sarcophagus,  which, 
from  the  multitudes  that  had  from  time  to  time  been  offered 
there,  was  surrounded  with  blood  and  bones !  a  most  rueful 
sight,  as  ever  any  eye  beheld ! — here  an  arm  fresh  torn  from 
its  place,  reeking  with  blood,  another  exhibiting  but  bone  and 
sinews  from  the  mangling  jaws  of  wild  beasts !  Such  was 
the  place  he  was  ordered  to  guard,  through  day  and  night — 
doomed  to  sit  himself  down  among  this  horrible  assemblage 
of  the  dead.  When  left  alone  he  reflected  that  his  escape 
from  fire  was  not  so  fortunate  for  him  as  he  had  hoped ;  for 
now,  his  naturally  superstitious  mind  was  haunted  by  the  pres- 
ence of  innumerable  ghosts,  who  stalked  in  every  place,  and 
which  he  had  from  his  youth  been  taught  to  believe  were  capa- 
ble of  doing  him  all  manner  of  injuries,  even  to  the  depriving 
of  life. 

There  was  no  reflection  in  those  remote  ages  of  the  real 
situation  of  all  the  living,  in  respect  to  the  great  valley  of  death 
in  which  all  beings  are  born  and  nursed,  and  which  no  length 
of  years  is  sufficient  to  carry  them  through.  Let  us  fo^yi  mo- 
ment cast  our  eyes  around  us.  Where  are  we  ?  Norm  the 
same  temple  with  Ortiz,  but  in  one  equally  vast.  We  can  see 
nothing  but  death  in  every  place.  The  very  ground  we  walk 
upon  is  composed  of  the  decayed  limbs  of  our  own  species,  with 
those  of  a  hundred  others.  A  succession  of  animals  have  been 
rising  and  falling  for  many  thousand  years  in  all  parts  of  the 
world.  They  have  died  all  around  us — in  our  very  places. 
We  do  not  distinctly  behold  the  hands,  the  feet,  or  the  bones  of 
them,  because  they  have  crumbled  to  dust  beneath  our  feet. 
And  cannot  the  ghosts  of  these  as  well  arise  as  of  those  slain 
yesterday  ?     The  affirmative  cannot  be  denied. 

As  we  have  said,  Ortiz  found  himself  snatched  from  one 
dreadful  death,  only,  as  he  imagined,  to  be  thrust  into  the  jaws 
of  another,  yet  more  terrible.  Experience,  however,  soon 
proved  to  him,  that  the  dead,  at  least  those  with  whom  he  was 
forced  to  dwell,  either  could  or  would  not  send  forth  their 


m 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


1« 


spirits  in  any  other  shape  than  such  phantoms  as  his  own  mind 
created,  in  dreams  and  reveries.  We  can  accustom  ourselves 
to  almost  anything,  and  it  was  not  long  before  our  captive 
contemplated  the  dead  bodies  with  v/hich  he  was  surrounded, 
with  about  the  same  indifference  as  he  did  the  walls  of  the 
temple  that  encompassed  them. 

How  long  after  Ortiz  had  been  placed  to  guard  the  temple 
of  sacrifices  the  following  fearful  midnight  adventure  hap- 
pened, we  have  no  means  of  slating  with  certainty,  nor  is  it 
very  material ;  it  is,  however,  according  to  his  own  account,  as 
follows :  A  young  Indian  had  been  killed  and  his  body  placed 
in  this  temple.  Late  one  night,  Ortiz  found  it  closely  invested 
by  wolves,  which,  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  entered  the  place, 
and  carried  away  the  body  of  the  Indian.  The  fright  and  the 
darkness  were  so  heavy  upon  Ortiz  that  he  knew  not  that  the 
body  was  missing  until  morning.  It  appears,  however,  that  he 
recovered  himself,  seized  a  heavy  cudgel,  which  he  had  pre- 
pared at  hand,  and  commenced  a  general  attack  upon  the  beasts 
in  the  temple,  and  not  only  drove  them  out,  but  pursued  them 
a  good  way  from  the  place.  In  the  pursuit  he  came  up  with 
one  which  he  gave  a  mortal  blow,  although  he  did  not  know  it 
at  the  time.  Having  returned  from  this  hazardous  adventure 
to  the  temple,  he  impatiently  awaited  the  return  pf  daylight. 
When  the  day  dawned,  great  was  his  distress  at  the  discovery 
of  the  loss  of  the  body  of  the  dead  Indian,  which  was  especially 
aggravated,  because  it  was  the  son  of  a  great  chief. 

When  the  r -iws  of  this  affair  came  to  the  ears  of  Ucita,  he 
at  once  resolved  to  have  Ortiz  put  to  death ;  but  before  execut- 
ing his  purpose  he  sent  out  several  Indians  to  pursue  after  the 
wolveai,  to  recover,  if  possible,  the  sacrifice.  Contrary  to  all 
expectation,  the  body  was  found,  and  not  far  from  it  the  body  of 
a  huge  wolf  also.  When  Ucita  learned  these  facts,  he  coun- 
termanded the  order  for  his  execution. 

Three  long  years  was  Ortiz  doomed  to  watch  this  wretched 
temple  of  ♦he  dead.  At  the  end  of  this  time  he  was  relieved 
only  by  the  overthrow  of  the  power  of  Ucita.  This  was  ef- 
fected by  a  war  between  the  two  rival  chiefs,  Ucita  and  Mo- 
coso. 

The  country  over  which  Mocoso  reigned  was  only  two  days' 
journey  from  that  of  Ucita,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  large 
river  or  estuary.  Mocoso  came  upon  the  village  of  Ucita  in 
the  night  with  an  army,  and  attacked  his  castle,  and  took 
it,  and  also  the  rest  of  his  town.  Ucita  and  his  people  fled 
from  it  with  all  speed,  and  the  warriors  of  Mocoso  burnt 
it  to  the  ground.  Ucita  had  another  village  upon  the  coast, 
not  far  from  the  former,  to  which  he  and  his  people  fled,  ai^d 


¥. 


> 


16 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


were  not  pursued  by  their  enemies.  Soon  after  he  had  esta^ 
blishcd  himself  in  his  new  residence,  he  resolved  upon  making 
a  sacrifice  of  Ortiz.  Here  again  he  was  wonderfully  preserved, 
by  the  same  kind  friend  that  had  delivered  him  at  the  begin- 
mng  of  his  captivity.  The  daughter  of  the  chief,  knowing 
hex  intreaties  would  avail  nothing  with  her  father,  determined 
to  aid  him  to  make  an  escape ;  accordingly,  she  had  prepared 
the  way  for  his  reception  with  her  father's  enemy,  Mocoso. 
She  found  means  to  pilot  him  secretly  out  of  her  father's  vil- 
lage, and  accompanied  him  a  league  or  so  on  his  way,  and 
then  left  him  with  directions  how  to  proceed  to  the  residence 
of  Mocoso.  Having  travelled  all  night  as  fast  as  he  could, 
Ortiz  found  himself  next  morning  upon  the  borders  of  the  river 
which  bounded  the  territories  of  the  two  rival  chiefs.  He  was 
now  thrown  into  great  trouble,  for  he  could  not  proceed  farther 
without  discovery,  two  of  Mocoso's  men  being  then  fishing  in 
the  river ;  and,  although  he  came  as  a  friend,  yet  he  had  no 
way  to  make  that  known  to  them,  not  understanding  their  lan- 
guage, nor  having  means  wherewith  to  discover  his  character 
by  a  sign.  At  length  he  observed  their  arms,  which  they  had 
left  at  considerable  distance  from  the  place  where  they  then 
were.  Therefore,  as  his  only  chance  of  succeeding  in  his  en- 
terprise, he  crept  slyly  up  and  seized  their  arms  to  prevent 
their  mjuring  him.  When  they  saw  this  they  fled  with  all 
speed  towards  their  town.  Ortiz  followed  them  for  some  dis- 
tance, trying  by  language  as  well  as  by  signs  to  make  them 
understand  that  he  only  wished  protection  with  them,  but  all 
in  vain,  and  he  gave  up  the  pursuit  and  waited  quietly  the 
result.  It  was  not  long  before  a  large  party  came  running 
armed  towards  him,  and  when  they  approached,  he  was  obliged 
to  cover  himself  behind  trees  to  avoid  their  arrows.  Never- 
theless his  chance  of  being  killed  seemed  certain,  and  that 
very  speedily ;  but  it  providentially  happened,  that  there  was 
an  Indian  among  them  who  now  surrounded  him,  who  under- 
stood the  language  in  which  he  spoke,  and  thus  he  was  again 
rescued  from  another  perilous  situation. 

Having  now  surrendered  himself  into  the  hands  of  the  In- 
dians, four  of  their  number  were  dispatched  to  carry  the  tidings 
to  Mocoso,  and  to  learn  his  pleasure  in  regard  to  the  disposition 
to  be  made  of  him ;  but  instead  of  sending  any  word  of  direc- 
tion, Mocoso  went  himself  out  to  meet  Ortiz.  When  he  came 
to  him,  he  expressed  great  joy  at  seeing  him,  and  made  every 
profession  that  he  would  treat  him  well.  Ortiz,  however,  had 
seen  enough  of  Indians  to  warn  him  against  a  too  implicit 
confidence  in  his  pretensions ;  and  what  added  in  no  small 
degree  to  his  doubts  about  his  future  destiny,  was  this  very 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


If 


Extraordinary  circumstance.  Immediately  after  the  preliminary 
congratulations  were  over,  the  chief  made  him  take  an  oath, 
♦•  after  the  manner  of  Christians,"  that  he  would  not  run  away 
from  him  to  seek  out  another  master ;  to  which  he  very  readily 
assented.  At  the  same  time  Mocoso,  on  his  part,  promised 
Ortiz  that  he  would  not  only  treat  him  with  due  kindness,  but, 
that  if  ever  an  opportunity  offered  by  which  he  could  return  to 
his  own  people,  he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  assist  him  in 
it;  and,  to  keep  his  word  inviolate,  he  swore  to  what  he  had 
promised,  "  after  the  manner  of  the  Indians."  Nevertheless, 
our  captive  looked  upon  all  this  in  no  other  light  than  as  a 
piece  of  cunning,  resorted  to  by  the  chief,  to  make  him  only  a 
contented  slave ;  but  we  shall  see  by  the  sequel,  that  this  In- 
dian chief  dealt  not  in  European  guile,  and  that  he  was  actuated 
only  by  benevolence  of  heart. 

Three  years  more  soon  passed  over  the  head  of  Ortiz,  and 
he  experienced  nothing  but  kindness  and  liberty.  He  spent 
his  time  in  wandering  over  the  delightful  savannahs  of  Florida, 
and  through  the  mazes  of  the  palmetto,  and  beneath  the  re- 
freshing shades  of  the  wide-spreading  magnolia — pursuing 
the  deer  in  the  twilight  of  morning,  and  the  scaly  fry  in  the 
silver  lakes  in  the  cool  of  the  evening.  In  all  this  time  we 
hear  of  nothing  remarkable  that  happened  to  Ortiz,  or  to  the 
chief  or  his  people.  When  war  or  famine  does  not  disturb  the 
quiet  of  Indians  they  enjoy  themselves  to  the  full  extent  of 
their  natures — perfectly  at  leisure,  and  ready  to  devote  days 
together  to  the  entertainment  of  themselves,  and  any  travel- 
lers or  friends  that  may  sojourn  with  them. 

About  the  close  of  the  first  three  years  of  Ortiz's  sojourning 
with  the  tribe  of  Indians  under  Mocoso,  there  came  startling 
intelligence  into  their  village,  and  alarm  and  anxiety  sat  im- 
patiently upon  the  brow  of  all  the  inhabitants.  This  was 
occasioned  by  the  arrival  of  a  runner,  who  gave  information 
that  as  some  of  Mocoso's  men  were  in  their  canoes  a  great  way 
out  at  sea  fishing,  they  had  discovered  ships  of  the  white  men 
approaching  their  coast.  Mocoso,  after  communing  with  him- 
self a  short  time,  went  to  Ortiz  with  the  information,  which, 
when  he  had  imparted  it  to  him,  caused  peculiar  sensations  in 
his  breast,  and  a  brief  struggle  with  conflicting  feelings  ;  for 
one  cannot  forget  his  country  and  kindred,  nor  can  he  forget 
his  savior  and  protector.  In  short,  Mocoso  urged  him  to  go  to 
the  coast  and  see  if  he  could  make  a  discovery  of  the  ships. 
This  proceeding  on  the  part  of  the  chief  silenced  the  fears  of 
Ortiz,  and  he  set  out  upon  the  discovery ;  but  when  he  had 
spent  several  days  of  watchfulness  and  eager  expectation,  with- 
out seeing  or  gaining  any  other  intelligence  of  ships,  he  was 


4. 


. 


I 


18 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


ready  to  accuse  the  chief  of  practising  deception  upon  him,  to 
try  his  fidelity  ;  he  was  soon  satisfied,  however,  that  his  sus- 
picions were  without  foundation,  although  no  other  information 
was  ever  gained  of  ships  at  that  time. 

At  length,  when  six  years  more  had  elapsed,  news  of  a  less 
doubtful  character  was  brought  to  the  village  of  Mocoso.  It 
was,  that  some  white  people  had  actually  landed  upon  their 
coast,  and  had  possessed  themselves  of  the  village  of  Urista, 
and  driven  out  him  and  his  men.  Mocoso  immediately  im- 
parted this  information  to  Ortiz,  who,  presuming  it  was  an  idle 
tale,  as  upon  the  former  occasion,  affected  to  care  nothing  for 
it,  and  told  his  chief  that  no  wordly  thing  would  induce  him  to 
leave  his  present  master ;  but  Mocoso  persisted,  and  among 
arguments  advanced  this,  that  he  had  done  his  duty,  and  thit 
if  Ortiz  would  nut  go  out  and  seek  his  white  brethren,  and 
they  should  leave  the  country,  and  him  behind,  he  could  not 
blame  him,  and  withal  seriously  confirming  the  news.  In  the 
end  he  concluded  to  go  out  once  more,  and  after  thanking  his 
chief  for  his  great  kindness,  set  off,  with  twelve  of  his  best 
men  whom  Mocoso  had  appointed  for  his  guides,  to  find  the 
white  people. 

When  they  had  proceeded  a  considerable  part  of  the  way, 
they  came  into  a  plain,  and  suddenly  in  sight  of  a  party  of  120 
men,  who  proved  to  be  some  of  those  of  whom  they  had  heard. 
When  they  discovered  Ortiz  and  his  men,  they  pressed  towards 
them  in  warlike  array,  and  although  they  made  every  signal 
of  friendship  in  their  power,  yet  these  white  men  rushed  upon 
them,  barbarously  wounding  two  of  them,  and  the  others  saved 
themselves  only  by  flight.  Ortiz  himself  came  near  being 
killed.  A  horseman  rushed  Mpon  him,  knocked  him  down, 
and  was  prevented  from  dealing  a  deadly  blow  only  by  a 
timely  ejaculation  in  Spanish  which  he  made.  It  was  in  these 
words  :  "  I  am  a  Christian — do  not  kill  me,  nor  these  poor  men 
who  have  given  me  my  life." 

It  was  not  until  this  moment  that  the  soldiers  iliscovered 
their  mistake,  of  friends  for  enemies,  for  Ortiz  was.  in  :  M  ap- 
pearance, an  Indian;  and  now,  with  the  aid  of  ^^aix,  his;  attend- 
ing Indians  were  collected,  and  they  were  all  carried  to  the 
canr.p  of  the  white  men,  each  riding  behind  a  soldier  upon  his 
horse 

Or'.'Z  now  found  himself  among  an  army  of  Spaniards, 
comir  a.f'^sd  by  one  Fernando  De  Soto,  who  had  come  imp  that 
couf.try  with  e  ^^reat  armament  of  600  men  in  7  ships,  in  search 
of  riches ;  an  expedilion  undertaken  with  great  ostentation, 
raised  by  ihe  expectation  of  what  it  was  to  afford,  but  it  ended, 
«8  all  such  undertakings  should,  in  disgrace  and  mortification. 


CAPTIVITY  or  JOHN  ORTIZ. 


19 


*""  »lo  considered  the  acquisition  of  Urti/  of  very  great  impor* 
tance,  for  although  he  could  not  direct  him  to  any  mountains 
of  gold  or  silver,  yet  he  was  acquainted  with  the  language  of 
the  Indians,  and  he  kept  him  'ith  him  during  his  memorable 
expedition,  to  act  in  the  capacity  of  interpreter. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1543,  that  the  ferocious  and  siivnge 
Soto  fell  a  prey  to  his  misguided  ambition.  Ortiz  had  died  a 
few  months  before,  and  with  him  fell  the  already  disappointed 
hopes  cT  his  leader.  They  had  taken  up  winter  quarters  at  a 
nl.ico  ci'lled  Autiamque,  upon  the  Washita,  or  perhaps  Red 
fiive:  ai  i  it  was  here  that  difHculties  began  to  thicken  upon 
them.  When  in  the  spring  they  would  march  from  thence, 
S  .'0  was  grieved,  because  he  had  lost  so  good  an  interpreter, 
and  readily  felt  that  difiiculties  were  clustering  around  in  a 
much  more  formidable  array.  Hitherto,  when  they  were  at  a 
lv>ss  for  a  knowledge  of  the  country,  all  they  had  to  do  was  to 
lie  in  wait  and  seize  upon  some  Indian,  and  Ortiz  always  could 
understand  enough  of  the  language  to  relieve  them  from  all 
perplexity  about  their  course ;  but  now  they  had  no  other 
interpreter  but  a  young  Indian  of  Cutifachiqui,  who  understood 
a  little  Spanish ;  •'  yet  it  required  sometimes  a  whole  day  for 
him  to  explain  what  Ortiz  would  have  done  in  four  words." 
At  other  times  he  was  so  entirely  misunderstood,  that  after 
they  had  followed  his  direction  through  a  tedious  march  of  a 
whole  day,  they  would  find  themselves  obliged  to  return  again 
to  the  same  place." 

Such  was  the  value  of  Ortiz  in  the  expedition  of  Sot  ,  as 
that  miserable  man  conceived  ;  but  had  not  Soto  fallen  in  with 
him,  how  different  would  have  been  the  fate  of  a  multitude  of 
men,  Spaniards  and  Indians.  Upon  the  whole,  it  is  hard  to 
say  which  was  the  predominant  trait  in  the  character  of  Soto 
and. his  followers,  avarice  or  cruelty. 

At  one  time,  because  their  guides  had  led  them  out  of  the 
way,  Moscoso,  the  successor  of  Soto,  caused  them  to  be  hanged 
upon  a  tree  aid  there  left.  Another,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
expedition,  was  saved  from  the  fangs  of  dogs,  at  the  interfer- 
ence of  Ortiz,  because  ho  was  the  only  Indian  through  whom 
Ortiz  could  get  information.  It  is  as  difficult  to  decide  which 
was  the  more  superstitious,  the  Indians  or  the  self-styled 
"Christian  "^niards;"  for  when  Soto  died  a  chief  came  and 
offered  two  y^)ur»g  Indians  to  be  killed,  that  they  might  accom- 
pany and  serrp  the  white  man  to  the  world  of  spirits.  An 
Indian  gu*^  being  violently  seized  with  some  malady,  fell 
senseless  wu  the  gronrf'l  To  raise  him,  and  drive  away  the 
devil  which  they  supposed  was  in  him,  they  read  a  passage 
over  his  body  from  the  Bible,  and  he  immediately  recovered. 


I!! 


't 


t   ' 


20 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


Thus  we  have  given  all  the  particulars  we  can  derive  from 
authentic  sources  of  the  captivity  and  death  of  John  Ortiz. 
Of  Soto's  expedition,  about  which  many  writers  of  talents  and 
respectability  have  employed  their  pens,  it  was  not  our  inten- 
tion particularly  to  speak,  but  can  refer  those,  whose  curiosity 
would  lead  them  to  pursue  it,  to  a  new  edition  of  my  Chroni- 
cles OF  THE  Indians,  shortly  to  be  published  ;  but  for  a  rapid 
and  splendid  glance  over  that  ground,  I  will  refer  the  reader  to 
the  first  volume  of  Mr.  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States. 
And  yet  if  he  would  go  into  minute  details,  there  is  the  work 
of  Mr.  John  T.  Irving,  which  will  leave  little  else  to  be  looked 
for. 


NARRATIVE 


OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  OP  MRS.  MARY  ROWLANDSON,  WIPE  OP 
THE  REV.  JOSEPH  ROWLANDSON,  WHO  WAS  TAKEN  PRIS- 
ONER WHEN  LANCASTER  WAS  DESTROYED,  IN  THE  YEAR 
1676;  WRITTEN  BY  HERSELF. 


I  print  this  edition  of  Mrs.  Rowlandson's  Narrative  from  the  second 
Lancaster  edition,  with  a  selection  of  the  notes  to  that  edition,  by  Joseph 
WiLLARD,  Esq.,  which  was  printed  in  1828.  Mr.  Willard  calls  his  the 
sixth  edition.  My  own  notes  are,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  work,  signed 
Ed.  

On  the  10th  of  February,  1676,  came  the  Indians  with  great 
numbers*  upon  Lancaster:  their  first  coming  was  about  sun- 
rising.  Hearing  the  noise  of  some  guns,  we  looked  out ;  seve- 
ral houses  were  burning,  and  the  smoke  ascending  to  heaven. 
There  were  five  persons  taken  in  one  house ;  the  father  and 
mother,  and  a  sucking  child  they  knocked  on  the  head,  the 
other  two  they  took  and  carried  away  alive.  There  were  two 
others,  who,  being  out  of  their  garrison  upon  occasion,  were  set 
upon,  one  was  knocked  on  the  head,  the  other  escaped.  An- 
other there  was,  who,  running  along,  was  shot  and  wounded, 
and  fell  down ;  he  begged  of  them  his  life,  promising  them 
money,  as  they  told  me,  but  they  would  not  hearken  to  him, 
but  knocked  him  on  the  head,  stripped  him  naked,  and 
split  open  his  bowels.     Another,  seeing  many  of  the  Indians 

*  Fifteen  hundred  was  the  number,  according  to  the  best  authorities. 
They  were  the  Wamponoags,  led  by  King  Philip,  accomnanied  by  the 
Narrhagansetts,  his  allies,  and  also  by  the  Nipmucks  and  Nashaways, 
whom  fajs  artful  eloquence  had  persuaded  to  join  with  him. 


Kfl 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


21 


about  his  barn,  ventured  and  went  out,  but  was  quickly  shot 
down.  There  were  three  othets  belonging  to  the  same  garri- 
son who  were  killed  ;  the  Indians  getting  up  upon  the  roof  of 
the  barn,  had  advantage  to  shoot  down  upon  them  over  their  for- 
tification. Thus  these  murderous  wretches  went  on  burning 
and  destroying  all  before  them.* 

At  length  they  came  and  beset  our  house,  and  quickly  it  was 
the  dolefulest  day  that  ever  mine  eyes  saw.  The  house  stood 
upon  the  edge  of  a  hill ;  t  some  of  the  Indians  got  behind  the 
hill,  others  into  the  barn,  and  others  behind  any  thing  that 
would  shelter  them ;  from  all  which  places  they  shot  against 
the  house,  so  that  the  bullets  seemed  to  fly  like  hail,  and  quick- 
ly they  wounded  one  man  among  us,"then  another,  and  then  a 
[.third.  About  two  hours,  according  to  my  observation  in  that 
amazing  time,  they  had  been  about  the  house  before  they  pre- 
vailed to  fire  it,  which  they  did  with  flax  and  hemp  which 
they  brought  out  of  the  barn,  and  there  being  no  defence  about 
the  house,  only  two  flankers  at  two  opposite  corners,  and  one 
of  them  not  finished ;  they  fired  it  once,  and  one  ventured  out 
and  quenched  it,  but  they  quickly  fired  it  again,  and  that  took. 
Now  is  the  dreadful  hour  come  that  I  have  often  heard  of  in 
time  of  the  war,  as  it  was  the  case  of  others,  but  now  mine 
eyes  see  it.  Some  in  our  house  were  fighting  for  their  lives, 
others  wallowing  in  blood,  the  house  on  fire  over  our  heads, 
and  the  bloody  heathen  ready  to  knock  us  on  the  head  if  we 
stirred  out.  Now  might  we  hear  mothers  and  children  crying 
out  for  themselves  and  one  another,  "  Lord,  what  shall  loe  do  !  " 
Then  I  took  my  children,  and  one  of  my  sisters  [Mrs.  Drew] 
hers  to  go  forth  and  leave  the  house,  but  as  soon  as  we  came 
to  the  door  and  appeared,  the  Indians  shot  so  thick  that  the 
bullets  rattled  against  the  house  as  if  one  had  taken  a  handful 
of  stones  and  threw  them,  so  that  we  were  forced  to  give  back. 


-*i. 


i    i 


#* 


*  Mr.  Willard,  in  his  History  of  Lancaster,  says  he  cannot  ascertain 
that  attacks  were  made  in  more  than  two  places  previous  to  that  upon 
Mr.  Rowlandson's  house ;  the  first  of  which  was  Wheeler's  garrison,  at 
Wataquodoc  hill,  now  south-west  part  of  Bolton.  Here  they  killed  Jonas 
Fairbanks  and  Joshua  his  son,  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  Richard  Wheeler. 
Wheeler  had  been  in  town  about  fifteen  years.  The  second  was  Pres- 
cott's  garrison,  near  Poignand  and  Plant's  cotton  factory.  Ephraim 
Sawyer  was  killed  here  j  and  Henry  Farrar  and  a  Mr.  Ball  and  his  wife 
in  other  places.  V 

f  Mr.  Rowlandson's  house  was  on  the  brow  of  a  small  hill,  on  land  now 
owned  by  Nathaniel  Chandler,  Esq.,  about  a  third  of  a  mile  south-west  of 
the  meeting-house,  on  the  road  leading  from  the  centre  of  the  town  to  the 
village  called  New-Boston,  about  two  rods  from  the  road,  which  at  that 
time  ran  near  the  house. 


t^ 


I  ■ 


»■ 


■[•l 


i '  * 


Yf  '. 


81  MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 

We  had  six  stout  dogs  belonging  to  our  garrison,'*  but  none  of 
thein  would  stir,  though  at  another  time  if  an  Indian  had  come 
to  the  door,  they  were  ready  to  fly  upon  him  and  tear  him 
down.  The  Lord  hereby  would  make  us  the  more  to  acknow- 
ledge his  hand,  and  to  see  that  our  help  is  always  in  him.  But 
out  we  must  go,  the  fire  increasing,  and  coming  along  behind  us 
roaring,  and  the  Indians  gaping  before  us  with  their  guns, 
spears,  and  hatchets  to  devour  us.  No  sooner  were  we  out  of 
the  house,  but  my  brother-in-law t  (being  b  fore  wounded  in 
defending  the  house,  in  or  near  the  throa./  fell  down  dead, 
whereat  the  Indians  scornfully  shouted  and  hollowed,  and  were 
presently  upon  him,  stripping  oflfhis  clothes.  The  bullets  fly- 
ing thick,  one  went  through  my  side,  and  the  same,  as  would 
seem,  through  the  bowels  and  hand  of  my  poor  child  in  my 
arms.  One  of  my  elder  sister's  children,  named  William,  had 
then  his  leg  broke,  which  the  Indians  perceiving,  they  knocked 
him  on  the  head.  Thus  were  we  butchered  by  those  merciless 
heathens,  standing  amazed,  with  the  blood  running  down  to 
our  heels.  My  eldest  sister  t  being  yet  in  the  house,  and  see- 
ing those  woful  sights,  the  infidels  hailing  mothers  one  way 
and  children  another,  and  some  wallowing  in  their  blood;  and 
her  eldest  son  telling  her  that  her  son  William  was  dead,  and 
myself  was  wounded,  she  said,  "  Lord,  let  me  die  with  them ;" 
which  was  no  sooner  said  but  she  was  struck  with  a  bullet, 
aud  fell  down  dead  over  the  threshold.  I  hope  she  is  reaping 
the  fruit  of  her  good  labors,  being  faithful  to  the  service  of 
God  in  her  place.  In  her  younger  years  she  lay  under  much 
trouble  upon  spiritual  accounts,  till  it  pleased  God  to  make  that 
precious  scripture  take  hold  of  her  heart,  2  Cor.  12 :  9, — "  And 
he  said  unto  me,  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.^*  More  than 
twenty  years  after,  I  have  heard  her  tell  how  sweet  and  com- 
fortable that  place  was  to  her.  But  to  return :  The  Indians 
laid  hold  of  us,  pulling  me  one  way  and  the  children  another, 
and  said,  "  Come,  go  along  with  us."  I  told  them  they  would 
kill  me;  they  answered,  If  I  were  loilling  to  go  along  with 
them  they  would  not  hurt  me. 

Oh!  the  doleful  sight  that  now  was  to  behold  at  thi?^  house! 
Come,  behold  the  works  of  the  Lord,  what  desolations  he  has 
made  in  the  earth.     Of  thirty-seven  §  persons  who  were  in  this 

*  Mr.  Rowlandson's  house  was  filled  with  soldiers  and  inhabitants,  to 
the  ..umber  of  forty-two. 
f  Thomas  Rowlandson,  brother  to  the  clergyman. 

%  Mrs.  Kerley,  wife  of  Capt.  Henry  Kerley,  to  whom  she  was  married 
in  1654. 

^  We  have  stated  in  a  previous  note  that  there  were  forty-two  per$ons 


;*;^-.^-. 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


23 


*  but  none  of 
ian  had  come 
nd  tear  him 
e  to  acknow- 
in  him.  But 
ng  behind  us 
I  their  guns, 
2re  we  out  of 
wounded  in 
down  dead, 
red,  and  were 
le  bullets  fly- 
me,  as  would 
child  in  my 
William,  had 
they  knocked 
ose  merciless 
ling  down  to 
use,  and  see- 
lers  one  way 
r  blood ;  and 
as  dead,  and 
with  them :" 
vith  a  bullet, 
le  is  reaping 
le  service  of 
under  much 
lo  make  that 
9,— «  And 
More  than 
et  and  com- 
rhe  Indians 
ran  another, 
they  would 
along  with 

thir  house! 
tions  he  has 
were  in  this 

inhabitants,  to 


I  was  married 
jr-two  persons 


one  house,  none  escaped  either  present  death,  or  a  bitter  cap- 
tivity, save  only  one,''*'  who  might  say  as  in  Job  1 :  15, — ^^And 
J  onty  am  escaped  alone  to  tell  the  news."     There  were  twelve 
[killed,  some  shot,  some  stabbed  with  their  spears,  some  knock- 
j  ed  down  with  their  hatchets.     When  we  are  in  prosperity.  Oh 
[the  little  that  we  think  of  such  dreadful  sights,  to  see  our  dear 
friends  and  relations  lie  bleeding  out  their  hearts-blood  upon 
Ithe  o-round.     There  was  one  who  was  chopt  in  the  head  with 
a  hatchet,  and  stript  naked,  and  yet  was  crawling  up  and  down. 
It  was  a  solemn  sight  to  see  so  many  Christians  lying  in  their 
[blood,  some  here  and  some  there,  like  a  company  of  sheep 
I  torn  by  wolves ;  all  of  them  stript  naked  by  a  company  of 
[hell-hounds,  roaring,  singing,  ranting,  and  insulting,  as  if  they 
|would  have  torn  our  very  hearts  out;  yet  the  Lord,  by  his 
lalmighty  power,  preserved  a  number  of  us  from  death,  for  there 
rWere  twenty-four  of  us  taken  alive  and  carried  captive. 

I  had  often  before  this  said,  that  if  the  Indians  should  come, 
[I  should  choose  rather  to  be  killed  by  them  than  taken  alive,  but 
!  when  it  came  to  the  trial,  my  mind  changed ;  their  glittering 
I  weapons  so  daunted  my  spirit,  that  I  chose  rather  to  go  along 
I  with  those  (as  I  may  say)  ravenous  bears,  than  that  moment 
,  to  end  my  days.  And  that  I  may  the  better  declare  what  hap- 
pened to  me  during  that  grievous  captivity,  I  shall  particularly 
[speak  of  the  several  Removes  we  had  up  and  down  the  wif- 
[derness. 

The  First  Remove. — Now  away  we  must  go  with  those 
[barbarous  creatures,  with  our  bodies  wounded  and  bleeding, 
land  our  hearts  no  less  than  our  bodies.  About  a  mile  we  went 
[that  night,  up  upon  a  hill,t  within  sight  of  the  town,  where 
[we  intended  to  lodge.  There  was  hard  by  a  vacant  house,  de 
[serted  by  the  English  before,  for  fear  of  the  Indians  ;  I  asked 
[them  whether  I  might  not  lodge  in  the  house  that  night ;  to 
[which  they  answered,  "What,  will  you  love  Englishmen  still  ?' 
fThis  was  the  dolefulest  night  that  ever  my  eyes  saw.  Oh  the 
iroaring,  and  singing,  and  dancing,  and  yelling  of  those  black 
Icreatures  in  the  night,  which  made  the  place  a  lively  resem- 

iin  the  house,  in  which  number  are  included  five  soldiers  not  reckoned  by 
^Mrs.  Rowlandson. 

♦  Ephraim  Roper,  whose  wife  was  killed  in  attempting  to  escape. 

t  George  Hill,  which  has  been  so  called  for  more  than  one  hundred  and 
Ififty  years.  It  is  said  to  have  taken  its  name  from  an  Indian  whom  the 
lEnglish  called  George,  and  who  had  a  wigwam  upon  it.  The  name  in- 
icludes  the  whole  range  of  the  fertile  and  delightful  ridge  on  the  west  side 
|of  the  town,  nearly  two  miles  in  extent.  From  the  southern  part,  which 
"  almost  a  distinct  hill,  is  a  fine  view  of  the  town  and  surrounding  coun- 


Ill  T 


24 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


blance  of  hell.  And  miserable  was  the  waste  that  was  there 
made  of  horses,  cattle,  sheep,  swine,  calves,  lambs,  roasting 
pigs,  and  fowls,  (which  they  had  plundered  in  the  town,)  some 
roasting,  some  lying  and  burning,  and  some  boiling,  to  feed  our 
merciless  enemies ;  who  were  joyful  enough,  though  we  were 
disconsolate.  To  add  to  the  dolefulness  of  the  former  day, 
and  the  dismalness  of  the  present  night,  my  thoughts  ran  upon 
my  losses  and  sad,  bereaved  condition.  All  was  gone,  my  hus- 
band gone,*=  (at  least  separated  from  me,  he  being  in  the  Bay ; 
and  to  add  to  my  grief,  the  Indians  told  me  they  would  kill 
him  as  he  came  homeward,)  my  children  gone,  my  relations 
and  friends  gone,t  our  house  and  home,  and  all  our  comforts 
within  door  and  without,  all  was  gone,  (except  my  life,)  and  I 
knew  not  but  the  next  moment  that  might  go  too. 

There  remained  nothing  to  me  but  one  poor,  wounded  babo; 
and  it  seemed  at  present  worse  than  de?.th,  that  it  was  in  such 
a  pitiful  condition,  bespeaking  compassion,  and  I  had  no  re- 
freshing for  it,  nor  suitable  things  to  revive  it.  Little  do  many 
think  what  is  the  savageness  and  brutishness  of  this  barbarous 
enemy,  those  even  that  seem  to  profess  more  than  others 
among  them,  when  the  English  have  fallen  into  their  hands. 

Those  seven  that  were  killed  at  Lancaster  the  summer  be- 
fore upon  a  Sabbath  day,  and  the  one  that  was  afterward  killed 
upon  a  week-day,  were  slain  and  mangled  in  a  barbarous  man- 
ner, by  One-eyed  John  and  Marlborough's  praying  Indians, 
which  Capt.  Mosely  brought  to  Boston,  as  the  Indians  told 
me. 

The  Second  Remove. — But  now  (the  next  morning)  I  must 
turn  my  back  upon  the  town,  and  travel  with  them  into  the 
vast  and  desolate  wilderness,  I  know  not  whither.  It  is  not 
my  tongue  or  pen  can  express  the  sorrows  of  my  heart,  and 
bitterness  of  my  spirit,  that  I  had  at  this  departure ;  but  God 
was  with  me  in  a  wonderful  manner,  carrying  me  along  and 
bearing  up  my  spirit,  that  it  did  not  quite  fail.  One  of  the 
Indians  carried  my  poor  wounded  babe  upon  a  horse  :  it  went 
moaning  all  along,  "  I  shall  die,  I  shall  die."  I  went  on  foot  after 
it  with  sorrow  that  cannot  be  expressed.  At  length  I  took  it  off 
the  horse,  and  carried  it  in  my  arms,  till  my  strength  failed  and 
I  fell  down  with  it.  Then  they  set  me  upon  a  horse  with  my 
^younded  child  in  my  lap,  and  there  being  no  furniture  on  the 
horse's  back,  as  we  were  going  down  a  steep  hill,  we  both  fell 

♦  Mr.  Rowlandson,  'vith  Capt.  Kerley  and  Mr.  Drew,  were  at  this  time 
in  Boston,  soliciting  the  governor  and  council  for  more  soldiers,  for  the 
protection  of  the  place. 

t  No  less  than  seventeen  of  Mr.  Rowlandson's  family  were  put  to  death 
or  taken  prisoners. 


4iv 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


86 


that  was  there 
ambs,  roasting 
le  town,)  some 
ng,  to  feed  our 
lOugh  we  were 
e  former  day, 
ights  ran  upon 
gone,  my  hus- 
ig  in  the  Bay ; 
hey  would  kill 
},  my  relations 
I  our  comforts 
my  life,)  and  I 
a. 

wounded  babe, 
it  was  in  such 
I  I  had  no  re- 
Little  do  many 
this  barbarous 
e  than  others 
their  hands, 
e  summer  be- 
fterward  killed 

rbarous  man- 
ying  Indians, 

Indians  told 

•rning)  I  must 
them  into  the 
ler.  It  is  not 
my  heart,  and 
ure ;  but  God 
tne  along  and 
One  of  the 
orse  :  it  went 
It  on  foot  after 
h  I  took  it  off 
o-th  failed  and 
orse  with  my 
niture  on  the 
we  both  fell 

ere  at  this  time 
soldiers,  for  the 

ere  put  to  death 


over  the  horse's  head,  at  which  ihey  like  inhuman  creatures 
laughed,  and  rejoiced  to  see  it,  though  I  thought  we  should 
there  have  ended  our  days,  overcome  with  so  many  difRculties. 
But  the  Lord  renewed  my  strength  still,  and  carried  me  along, 
that  I  might  see  more  of  his  power,  yea,  so  much  that  I  could 
never  have  thought  of,  had  I  not  experienced  it. 

After  this  it  quickly  began  to  snow,  and  when  night  came 
on  they  stopt.  And  now  down  I  must  sit  in  the  snow,  by  a  lit- 
tle fire,  and  a  few  boughs  behind  me,  with  my  sick  child  in  my 
lap,  and  calling  much  for  water,  being  now,  through  the  woundf, 
fallen  into  a  violent  fever ;  my  own  wound  also  growing  so 
stiff,  that  I  could  scarce  sit  down  or  rise  up,  yet  so  it  must  be, 
that  I  must  sit  all  this  cold,  winter  night  upon  the  cold  snowy 
ground,  with  my  sick  child  in  my  arms,  looking  that  every 
hour  would  be  the  last  of  its  life,  and  having  no  Christian 
friend  near  me,  either  to  comfort  or  help  me.  Oh,  I  may  see 
the  wonderful  power  of  God,  that  my  spirit  did  not  utterly 
sink  under  my  affliction  ;  still  the  Lord  upheld  me  with  his 
gracious  and  merciful  spirit,  and  we  were  both  alive  to  see  the 
light  of  the  next  morning. 

The  Third  Remove. — The  morning  being  come,  they  pre- 
pared to  go  on  their  way;  one  of  the  Indians  got  upon  a  horse, 
and  they  sat  me  up  behind  him,  with  my  poor  sick  babe  in  my 
lap.  A  very  wearisome  and  tedious  day  I  had  of  it ;  what 
with  my  own  wound,  and  my  child  being  so  exceeding  sick, 
and  in  a  lamentable  condition  with  her  wound,  it  may  easily 
be  judged  what  a  poor,  feeble  condition  we  were  in,  there 
being  not  the  least  crumb  of  refreshing  that  came  within  either 
of  our  mouths  from  Wednesday  night  to  Saturday  niglit,  except 
only  a  little  cold  water.  This  day  in  the  afternoon,  about  an 
hour  by  sun,  we  came  to  the  place  where  they  intended,  viz. 
an  Indian  town  called  Wenimesset,  [New  Braintree]  north- 
ward of  Quabaug,  [Brookfield.]  When  we  were  come,  Oh 
the  number  of  Pagans,  now  merciless  enemies,  that  there  came 
about  me,  that  I  may  say  as  David,  Psal.  27  :  13,  ^*  I  had  faint- 
ed unless  I  had  believed"  &c.  The  next  day  was  the  Sabbath. 
I  then  remembered  how  careless  I  had  been  of  God's  holy 
time ;  how  many  Sabbaths  I  had  lost  and  misspent,  and  how 
evilly  I  had  walked  in  God's  sight ;  which  lay  so  close  upon 
my  spirit,  that  it  was  easy  for  me  to  see  how  righteous  it  was 
with  God  to  cut  off  the  thread  of  my  life,  and  cast  me  out  of 
his  presence  for  ever.  Yet  the  Lord  still  showed  mercy  to  me, 
and  helped  me ;  and  as  he  wounded  me  with  one  hand,  so  he 
healed  me  with  the  other.  This  day  there  came  to  me  one 
Robert  Pepper,  a  man  belonging  to  Roxbury,  who  was  taken 
at  Capt.  Beers'  fight,  and  had  been  now  a  considerable  time 
3  ^^.-   - 


86 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


Ill' 


' 


with  the  Indians,  and  up  with  them  almost  as  far  as  Albany, 
to  see  King  Philip,  as  he  told  me,  and  was  now  very  lately 
come  into  these  parts.  Hearing,  I  say,  that  I  was  in  this  In- 
dian town,  he  obtained  leave  to  come  and  see  me.  He  told  me 
he  himself  was  wounded  in  the  leg  at  Capt.  Beers'  fight,  and 
was  not  able  some  time  to  go,  but  as  they  carried  him,  and  that 
he  took  oak  leaves  and  laid  to  his  wound,  and  by  the  blessing 
of  God  he  was  able  to  travel  again.  Then  took  I  oak  leaves 
and  laid  to  my  side,  and  with  the  blessing  of  God  it  cured  me 
also ;  yet  before  the  cure  was  wrought,  I  may  say  as  it  is  in 
Psal.  38:  5,  6,  "My  loounds  stink  and  are  corrupt.  I  am 
troubled ;  I  am  lowed  down  greatly ;  I  go  mourning  all  the 
day  long."  I  sat  much  alone  with  my  poor  wounded  child  in 
my  lap,  which  moaned  night  and  day,  having  nothing  to  revive 
the  body  or  cheer  the  spirits  of  her;  but  instead  of  that,  one 
Indian  would  come  and  tell  me  one  hour,  "  Your  master  will 
knock  your  child  on  the  head,"  and  then  a  second,  and  then  a 
third,  "  Your  master  will  quickly  knock  your  child  on  the 
head." 

This  was  the  comfort  I  had  from  them ;  miserable  comfort- 
ers were  they  all.  Thus  nine  days  I  sat  upon  my  knees,  with 
my  babe  in  my  lap,  till  my  flesh  was  raw  again.  My  child 
being  even  ready  to  depart  this  sorrowful  world,  they  bid  me 
carry  it  out  to  another  wigwam,  I  suppose  because  they  would 
not  be  troubled  with  such  spectacles ;  whither  I  went  with  a 
very  heavy  heart,  and  down  I  sat  with  the  picture  of  death  in 
my  lap.  About  two  hours  in  the  night,  my  sweet  babe  like  a 
lamb  departed  this  life,  on  Feb.  18,  1676,  it  being  about  six 
years  and  five  months  old.''*^  It  was  nine  days  from  the  first 
wounding  in  this  miserable  condition,  without  any  refreshing 
of  one  nature  or  another  except  a  little  cold  water.  I  cannot 
but  take  notice  how  at  another  time  I  could  not  bear  to  be  in  a 
room  where  a  dead  person  was,  but  now  the  case  is  changed ; 
I  must  and  could  lie  down  with  my  dead  babe  all  the  night 
after.  I  have  thought  since  of  the  wonderful  goodness  of  God 
to  me  in  preserving  me  so  in  the  use  of  my  reason  and  senses, 
in  that  distressed  time,  that  I  did  not  use  wicked  and  violent 
means  to  end  my  own  miserable  life.  In  the  morning  when 
they  understood  that  my  child  was  dead,  they  sent  me  home 
to  my  master's  wigwam.  By  my  master  in  this^writing  must 
be  understood  Quannopin,  who  was  a  sagamore,  and  married 
King  Philip's  wife's  sister ;  not  that  he  first  took  me,  but  I  was 
sold  to  him  by  a  Narraganset  Indian,  who  took  me  when  I  first 
came  out  of  the  garrison.     I  went  to  take  up  my  dead  child 


'*  This  child's  name  was  Sarah ;  born  Sept.  15, 1669. 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


in  my  arms  to  carry  it  with  me,  but  they  bid  me  let  it  alone. 
There  was  no  resisting,  but  go  I  must,  and  leave  it.  When  I 
had  been  awhile  at  my  master's  wigwam,  I  took  the  first  op- 
portunity I  could  get  to  go  look  after  my  dead  child.  When 
I  came  1  asked  them  what  they  had  done  with  it.  They  told 
me  it  was  on  the  hill.''*'  Then  they  went  and  showed  me 
where  it  was,  where  I  saw  the  ground  was  newly  digged,  and 
where  they  told  me  they  had  buried  it.  There  I  left  that  child 
in  the  wilderness,  and  must  commit  it  and  myself  also  in  this 
wilderness  condition  to  Him  who  is  above  all.  God  having 
taken  away  this  dear  child,  I  went  to  see  my  daughter  Mary, 
who  was  at  the  same  Indian  town,  at  a  wigwam  not  very  far 
off,  though  we  had  little  liberty  or  opportunity  to  see  one 
another ;  she  was  about  ten  years  old,  and  taken  from  the  door 
at  first  by  a  praying  Indian,  and  afterwards  sold  for  a  gun. 
When  I  came  in  sight  she  would  fall  a  weeping,  at  which 
they  were  provoked,  and  would  not  let  me  come  near  her,  but 
bid  me  be  gone ;  which  was  a  heart-cutting  word  to  me.  I 
had  one  child  dead,  another  in  the  wilderness,  I  knew  not 
where,  the  third  they  would  not  let  me  come  near  to ;  "  Me 
(as  he  said)  have  ye  bereaved  of  my  children ;  Joseph  is  not, 
and  Simeon  is  not,  and  ye  vnll  take  Benjamin  also ;  all  these 
things  are  against  me.''^  I  could  not  sit  still  in  this  condition, 
but  kept  walking  from  one  place  to  another;  and  as  I  was 
going  along,  my  heart  was  even  overwhelmed  with  the  thoughts 
of  my  condition,  and  that  I  should  have  children,  and  a  nation 
that  I  knew  not  ruled  over  them.  Whereupon  I  earnestly 
entreated  the  Lord  that  he  would  consider  my  low  estate,  and 
show  me  a  token  for  good,  and  if  it  were  his  blessed  will,  some 
sign  and  hope  of  some  relief.  And  indeed  quickly  the  Lord 
answered  in  some  measure  my  poor  prayer  ;  for  as  1  was  going 
up  and  down  mourning  and  lamenting  my  condition,  my  son 
[Joseph]  came  to  me  and  asked  me  how  I  did.  I  had  not  seen 
him  before  since  the  destruction  of  the  town ;  and  I  knew  not 
where  he  was,  till  i  was  informed  by  himself  that  he  was 
among  a  smaller  parcel  of  Indians,  whose  place  was  about  six 
miles  off.  With  tears  in  his  eyes  he  asked  me  whether  his 
sister  Sarah  was  dead,  and  told  me  he  had  seen  his  sister  Mary, 
and  prayed  me  that  I  would  not  be  troubled  in  reference  to 
himself.  The  occasion  of  his  coming  to  see  me  at  this  time 
was  this  :  there  was,  as  I  said,  about  six  miles  from  us,  a  small 
plantation  of  Indians,  where  it  seems  he  had  been  during  his 
captivity ;  and  at  this  time  there  were  some  forces  of  the  In- 

*  This  hill,  in  the  town  of  New  Braintree,  is  now  known  as  the  burial 
place  of  Mrs.  Rowlandsou's  child. 


as 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


'■■t;^. 


;    ■-,.- 


dians  gathered  out  of  our  company,  and  some  also  from  them, 
amongst  whom  was  my  son's  master,  to  go  to  assault  and  burn 
Medfield.  In  this  time  of  his  master's  absence  his  dame 
brought  him  to  see  me.  I  took  this  to  be  some  gracious  answer 
to  my  earnest  and  unfeigned  desire.  The  next  day  the  Indians 
returned  from  Medfield;*'  all  the  company,  for  those  that 
belonged  to  the  other  smaller  cr»T)pany  came  through  the  town 
that  we  now  were  at ;  but  before  they  came  to  us,  Oh  the  out- 
rageous roaring  and  whooping  that  there  was  !  they  began 
their  din  about  a  mile  before  they  came  to  us.  By  their  noise 
and  whooping  they  signified  how  many  they  had  destroyed  ; 
which  was  at  that  time  twenty-three.  Those  that  were  with 
ui'  at  home  were  gathered  together  as  soon  as  they  heard  the 
V  hooping,  and  every  time  that  the  other  went  over  their  num- 
ber, these  at  home  gave  a  shout,  that  the  very  earth  rang  again. 
Aiid  thus  they  continued  till  those  that  had  been  upon  the 
expedition  were  come  up  to  the  sagamore's  wigwam  ;  and  then 
Oh  *he  hideous  insulting  and  triumphing  that  there  was  over 
some  Englishmen's  scalps  that  they  had  taken,  as  their  man- 
ner is,  ijnd  brought  with  them.  I  cannot  but  take  notice  of  the 
wonderful  mercy  of  God  to  me  in  those  afflictions,  in  sending 
me  a  Bible.  One  of  the  Indians  that  came  from  Medfield  fight, 
and  had  brought  some  plunder,  came  to  me,  and  asked  me  if  I 
would  have  a  Bible  ;  he  had  got  one  in  his  basket.  I  was  glad 
of  it,  and  asked  him  if  he  thought  the  Indians  would  let  me 
read.  He  answered  yes.  So  I  took  the  Bible,  and  in  that 
melancholy  time  it  came  into  my  mind  to  read  first  the  twenty- 
eighth  chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  which  I  did,  and  when  I  had 
read  it  my  dark  heart  wrought  on  this  manner :  that  there  was 
no  mercy  for  me,  that  the  blessings  were  gone,  and  the  curses 
came  in  their  room,  and  that  I  had  lost  my  opportunity.  But 
the  Lord  helped  me  still  to  go  on  reading,  till  I  came  to  chap. 
30,  the  seven  first  verses ;  where  I  found  there  was  mercy 
promised  again,  if  we  would  return  to  him  by  repentance ;  and 
though  we  were  scattered  from  one  end  of  the  earth  to  the 
other,  yet  the  Lord  would  gather  us  together,  and  turn  all  those 
curses  upon  our  enemies.  I  do  not  desire  to  live  to  forget  this 
scripture,  and  what  comfort  it  was  to  me. 

Now  the  Indians  began  to  talk  of  removing  from  this  place, 
some  one  way  and  some  another.  There  were  now  besides 
myself  nine  English  captives  in  this  place,  all  of  them  children 
except  one  woman.  I  got  an  opportunity  to  go  and  take  my 
leave  of  them,  they  being  to  go  one  way  and  I  another.  I 
asked  them  whether  they  were  earnest  with  God  for  deliver- 


*  Medfield  was  attacked  Feb.-%  (0.  S.) 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


29 


ance.  They  told  me  they  did  as  they  were  able,  and  it  wao 
some  comfort  to  me  that  the  Lord  stirred  up  children  to  look  to 
him.  The  woman,  viz.  goodwife  .Toslin,*  told  me  she  should 
never  see  me  again,  and  that  she  could  find  in  her  heart  to  run 
away  hy  any  means,  for  we  were  near  thirty  miles  from  any 
English  town.t  and  she  very  big  with  child,  having  but  one  week 
to  reckon,  and  another  child  in  her  arms  two  years  old  ;  and 
bad  rivers  there  were  to  go  over,  and  we  were  feeble  with  our 
poor  and  coarse  entertainment.  I  had  my  Bible  with  me.  I 
pulled  it  out,  and  asked  her  whether  she  would  read.  We 
opened  the  Bible,  and  lighted  on  Psalm  27,  in  which  Psalm 
we  especially  took  notice  of  that  verse,  "  Wait  on  the  Lord,  be 
of  good  courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen  thine  heart ;  wait  1 
say  on  the  Lord.^' 

The  Fourth  Remove. — And  now  must  I  part  with  the  little 
corr.pany  I  had.      Here  I  parted  with  my  daughter  Mary.t 
I  whom  I  never  saw  again  till  I  saw  her  in  Dorchester,  returned 
from  captivity,  and  from  four  little  cousins  and  neighbors,  some 
of  which  I  nevsr  saw  afterward ;  the  Lord  only  knows  the  end 
of  them.     Among  them  also  was  that  poor  woman  before  men- 
tioned, who  came  to  a  sad  end,  as  some  of  the  company  told 
me  in  my  travel.     She  having  much  grief  upon  her  spirits 
about  her  miserable  condition,  being  so  near  her  time,  she 
would  be  often  asking  the  Indians  to  let  her  go  home.     They 
r.ot  being  willing  to  that,  and  yet  vexed  with  her  importunity, 
gathered  a  great  company  together  about  her,  and  stript  her 
naked  and  set  her  in  the  midst  of  them ;  and  when  they  had 
sung  and  danced  about  her  in  their  hellish  manner  as  long  as 
they  pleased,  they  knocked  her  on  the  head,  and  the  child  in 
i  her  arms  with  her.     When  they  had  done  that,  they  made  a 
fire  and  put  them  both  into  it,  and  told  the  other  children  that 
were  with  them,  that  if  they  attempted  to  go  home  they  would 
serve  them  in  like  manner.     The  children  said  she  did  not 
shed  one  tear,  but  prayed  all  the  while.     But  to  turn  to  my 
own  journey.     We  travelled  about  a  half  a  day  or  a  little  more, 
[and  came  to  a  desolate  place  in  the  wilderness,  where  there 
jwere  no  wigwams  or  inhabitants  before.     We  came  about  the 
[middle  of  the  afternoon  to  this  place,  cold,  wet,  and  snowy,  and 
ff  hungry,  and  weary,  and  no  refreshing  for  man,  but  the  cold 
ground  to  sit  on,  and  our  poor  Indian  cheer. 

*  Abraham  Joslin's  wife. 

t  This  was  true  at  that  time,  as  Brookfield,  (Quaboag,)  within  a  few 
[miles  of  Wenimesset,  was  destroyed  by  the  Indians  in  August,  1675. 
[The  nearest  towns  were  those  on  Connecticut  river. 

tBom  August  12,  1665. 
3* 


80 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


Heart-aching  thoughts  here  I  had  nhout  my  poor  children, 
who  were  scattered  up  and  down  among  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
forest.  My  head  was  light  and  dizzy,  either  through  hunger 
or  bad  lodging,  or  trouble,  or  all  together,  my  knees  feeble,  my 
body  raw  by  silting  double  night  and  day,  that  I  cannot  ex- 

Eress  to  man  the  affliction  that  lay  upon  my  spirit,  but  the 
lord  helped  me  at  that  time  to  express  it  to  himself.  I  open- 
ed my  Bible  to  read,  and  the  Lord  brought  that  precious  scrip- 
ture to  me,  Jer.  31  :  16, — '*  Thtis  saith  the  Lord,  refrain  thy 
eoice  from  weeping,  and  thine  eyes  from  tears,  for  thy  ivork 
shall  be  retoarded,  and  they  shall  rome  again  from  the  land  of 
the  enemy."  This  was  a  sweet  cordial  to  me  when  I  was  ready 
to  faint.  Many  and  many  a  time  have  I  sat  down  and  wept 
sweetly  over  this  scripture.  At  this  place  we  continued  about 
four  days. 

The  Fifth  Remove. — The  occasion,  as  I  thought,  of  their 
removing  at  this  time,  was  the  English  army's  being  n  nr  and 
following  them ;  for  they  went  as  if  they  had  gone  foe  their 
iives  for  some  considerable  way ;  and  then  they  made  a  stop, 
and  chose  out  some  of  their  stoutest  men,  and  sent  then?,  back 
to  hold  the  English  army  in  play  whilst  the  rest  escaped  ;  and 
then,  Mice  Jehu,  they  marched  on  furiously,  with  their  old  and 
young :  some  carried  their  old,  decrepit  mothers,  some  carried 
one,  and  some  another.  Four  of  them  carried  a  great  Indian 
upon  a  bier ;  but  going  through  a  thick  v.'ood  with  him,  they 
were  hindered,  and  could  make  no  haste ;  a\  hereupon  they  took 
him  upon  their  backs,  and  carried  him  one  at  a  time,  till  we 
came  to  Bacquag*  river.  Upon  Friday,  a  little  after  noon,  we 
came  to  this  river.  When  all  the  company  was  come  up  and 
were  gathered  together,  I  thought  to  count  the  number  of  them, 
but  they  were  so  many,  and  being  somewhat  in  motion,  it  was 
beyond  my  skill.  In  this  travel,  because  of  my  wound,  I  was 
?:'r||tj^ewhat  favored  in  my  load.  I  carried  only  my  knitting- 
^%Oirk,  and  two  quarts  of  parched  meal.  Being  very  faint,  I 
''asked  my  mistress  to  give  me  one  spoonful  of  the  meal,  but 
she  would  not  give  me  a  taste.  They  quickly  fell  to  cutting 
dry  trees,  to  make  rafts  to  carry  them  over  the  river,  and  soon 
my  turn  came  to  go  over.  By  the  advantage  of  some  brush 
which  they  had  laid  upon  the  raft  to  sit  on,  I  did  not  wet  my 
foot,  while  many  of  themselves  at  the  other  end  were  mid-leg 
deep,  which  cannot  but  be  acknowledged  as  a  favor  of  God  to 
my  weakened  body,  it  being  a  very  cold  time.  I  was  not  be- 
fore acquainted  with  such  kind  of  doings  or  dangers.    '*  When 


•  Or  Payquage,  now  Miller's  river.    It  empties  into  the  Connecticut, 
between  Northfield  and  Montague. 


fi 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY.  Wk 

thou  peuseth  through  the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee,  and  through 
the  rivers  they  shall  not  overflow  thee.'* — Isa.  43 :  2.  A  certain 
number  of  us  got  over  the  river  that  night,  but  it  was  the  night 
after  the  Sabbath  before  all  the  company  was  got  over.  On 
the  Saturday  they  boiled  an  old  horse's  leg  which  they  had 
got,  and  so  we  drank  of  the  broth,  as  soon  as  they  thought  it 
was  ready,  and  when  it  was  almost  all  gone  they  filled  it  up 
again. 

The  first  week  of  my  being  among  them,  I  hardly  eat  any 
thing ;  the  second  week  I  found  my  stomach  grow  very  faint 
for  want  of  something,  and  yet  it  was  very  hard  to  get  down 
their  filthy  trash ;  but  the  third  week,  though  I  could  think  how 
formerly  my  stomach  would  turn  against  this  or  that,  and  I 
cuuld  starve  and  die  before  I  could  eat  such  things,  yet  they 
were  pleasant  and  savory  to  my  taste.  I  was  at  this  time  knit- 
ting a  pair  of  white  cotton  stockings  for  my  mistress,  and  I  had 
not  yet  wrought  upon  the  Sabbath  day.  When  the  Sabbath 
came,  they  bid  me  go  to  work.  I  told  them  it  was  Sabbath 
day,  and  d.esired  them  to  let  me  rest,  and  told  them  I  would  do 
as  much  more  work  to-morrow ;  to  which  they  answered  me 
they  would  break  my  face.  And  here  I  cannot  but  take  notice 
of  the  strange  providence  of  God  in  preserving  the  heathen. 
They  were  many  hundreds,  old  and  young.,  some  sick,  and 
some  lame ;  many  had  papooses  at  their  backs ;  the  greatest 
number  at  this  time  with  us  were  squaws ;  and  yet  they  tra- 
velled with  all  they  had,  bag  and  baggage,  and  they  got  over 
this  river  aforesaid ;  and  on  Monday  they  sat  their  wigwams 
on  fire,  and  away  they  went.  On  that  very  day  came  the 
English  army  after  them  to  this  river,  and  saw  the  smoke  of 
their  wigwams,  and  yet  this  river  put  a  stop  to  them.  God  did 
not  give  them  courage  or  activity  to  go  over  after  us.  We 
were  not  ready  for  so  great  a  mercy  as  victory  and  deliverance ; 
if  we  had  been,  God  would  have  found  out  a  way  for  the 
English  to  have  passed  this  river,  as  well  as  for  the  Indians, 
with  their  squaws  and  children,  and  all  their  luggage.  "  O 
that  my  people  had  hearkened  unto  me,  and  Israel  had  walked 
in  my  ivays ;  I  should  soon  have  subdved  their  enemies,  and 
turned  my  hand  against  their  adversaries.'* — Psal.  81 :  13,  14. 

The  Sixth  Remove. — On  Monday,  as  I  said,  they  set  their 
wigwams  on  fire,  and  went  away.  It  was  a  cold  morning,  and 
before  us  there  was  a  great  brook  with  ice  on  it.  Some  waded 
through  it  up  to  the  knees  and  higher,  but  others  went  till  they 
came  to  a  beaver  dam,  and  I  amongst  them,  where,  through 
the  good  providence  of  God,  I  did  not  wet  my  foot.  I  went 
along  that  day  mourning  and  lamenting,  leaving  farther  my 
own  country,  and  travelling  farther  into  the  yast  and  howling 


32 


MRS.  ROWLANPSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


wilderness,  and  I  understood  something  of  Lot's  wife's  temp- 
tation when  she  looked  back.  We  came  that  day  to  a  great 
swamp,  by  the  side  of  which  we  took  up  our  lodging  that 
night.  When  we  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill  that  looked  to- 
ward the  swamp,  I  thought  we  had  been  come  to  a  great  Indian 
town,  though  there  were  none  but  our  own  company;  the  In- 
dians were  as  thick  as  the  trees ;  it  seemed  ns  if  there  had 
been  a  thousand  hatchets  going  at  once.  If  one  looked  before 
one  there  was  nothing  but  Indians,  and  behind  one  nothing  but 
Indians ;  and  so  on  either  hand ;  and  I  myself  in  the  midst, 
and  no  Christian  soul  near  me,  and  yet  now  hath  the  Lord 
preserved  me  in  safety !  Oh  the  experience  that  I  have  had 
of  the  goodness  of  God  to  me  and  mine! 

The  Seventh  Remove. — After  a  restless  and  hungry  night 
there,  we  had  a  wearisome  time  of  it  the  next  day.  The 
swamp  by  which  we  lay  was  as  it  were  a  deep  dungeon,  and 
an  exceedinf  high  and  steep  hill  before  it.  Before  I  got  to  the 
top  of  the  h!ll,  I  thought  my  heart  and  legs  and  all  would  have 
broken  anr'.  failed  me.  What  through  faintness  and  soreness  of 
body,  it  wos  a  grievoiis  day  of  travel  to  me.  As  we  went  along,  I 
saw  a  place  where  English  cattle  had  been.  That  was  a  com- 
fort to  me,  such  as  it  was.  Quickly  after  that  we  came  to 
an  English  path,  which  so  took  me  that  I  thought  I  could  there 
have  freely  lain  down  and  died.  That  day,  a  little  after  noon, 
we  came  to  Squaheag,'**'  where  the  Indians  quickly  spread 
themselves  over  the  deserted  English  fields,  gleaning  what  they 
could  find.  Some  picked  up  ears  of  wheat  that  were  crickled 
down,  some  found  ears  of  Indian  corn,  some  found  ground- 
nuts, and  others  sheaves  of  wheat  that  were  frozen  together  in 
the  shock,  and  went  to  threshing  of  them  out.  Myself  got  two 
ears  of  Indian  corn,  and  whilst  I  did  but  turn  my  back,  one  of 
them  was  stole  from  me,  which  much  troublea  me.  There 
came  an  Indian  to  them  at  that  time,  with  a  basket  of  horse- 
liver.  I  asked  him  to  give  me  a  piece.  "  What,"  says  he, 
"  can  you  eat  horse-liver  ? "  I  told  him  I  would  try,  if  he  would 
give  me  a  piece,  which  he  did ;  and  I  laid  it  on  the  coals  to 
roast;  but  before  it  was  half  ready,  they  got  half  of  it  away 
from  me ;  so  that  I  was  forced  to  take  the  rest  and  eat  it  as  it 
was,  with  the  blood  about  my  mouth,  and  yet  a  savory  bit  it 
was  to  me  ;  for  to  the  hungry  soul  every  bitter  thing  was  sweet. 
A  solemn  sight  methought  it  was,  to  see  whole  fields  of  wheat 
and  Indian  corn  forsaken  and  spoiled,  and  the  remainder  of 
them  to  be  food  for  our  merciless  enemies.  That  night  we 
had  a  mess  of  wheat  for  our  supper. 

*  Or  Squakeag,  now  Northfield. 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


33 


The  Eighth  Rkmove. — ^On  the  morrow  morning  we  must 
go  over  Connecticut  river,  to  meet  with  King  Philip.  Two 
canoes  full  they  had  carried  over;  the  next  turn  myself  was 
to  go ;  but  as  my  foot  was  upon  the  canoe  to  step  in,  there  was 
a  sudden  outcry  among  them,  and  I  must  step  back ;  and 
instead  of  going  ov»  r  the  river,  I  must  go  four  or  five  miles  up 
the  river  further  northward.  Some  of  the  Indians  ran  one  way, 
and  some  another.  The  cause  of  this  rout  was,  as  I  thought, 
their  espying  some  English  scouts,  who  were  thereabouts.  In 
this  travel  up  the  river,  about  noon  the  company  made  a  stop, 
and  sat  down,  some  to  eat  and  others  to  rest  them.  As  I  sat 
amongst  them,  musing  on  things  past,  my  son  Joseph  unex- 
pectedly came  to  me.  We  asked  of  each  other's  welfare,  be- 
moaning our  doleful  condition,  and  the  change  that  had  come 
upon  us.  We  had  husband  and  father,  and  children  and  sis- 
ters, and  friends  and  relations,  and  house  and  home,  and  many 
comforts  of  this  life ;  but  now  we  might  say  as  Job,  "  Naked 
came  I  out  of  my  mother^s  womb,  and  naked  shall  I  return. 
The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord.*'  I  asked  him  whether  he  would  read.  He 
told  me  he  earnestly  desired  it.  I  gave  him  my  Bible,  and  he 
lighted  upon  that  comfortable  scripture.  Psalm  118:  17,  18, — 
**  I  shall  not  die,  but  live,  and  declare  the  works  of  the  Lord. 
The  Lord  hath  chastened  me  sore,  yet  he  hath  not  given  me  over  to 
death.*'  "  Look  here,  mother,"  says  he,  *•  did  you  read  this  ?" 
And  here  I  may  take  occasion  to  mention  one  principal  ground 
of  my  setting  forth  these  lines,  even  as  the  Psalmist  says,  to 
declare  the  v/orks  of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonderful  power  in 
carrying  us  along,  preserving  us  in  the  wilderness  while  under 
the  enemy's  hand,  and  returning  of  us  in  safety  again ;  and 
his  goodness  in  bringing  to  my  hand  so  many  comfortable  and 
suitable  scriptures  in  my  distress. 

But  to  return.  We  travelled  on  till  night,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing we  must  go  over  the  river  to  Philip's  crew.  When  I  was 
in  the  canoe,  I  could  not  but  be  amazed  at  the  numerous  crew 
of  Pagans  that  were  on  the  bank  on  the  other  side.  When  I 
Fcame  ashore,  they  gathered  all  about  me,  I  sitting  alone  in  the 
midst.  I  observed  they  asked  one  another  questions,  and 
I  laughed,  and  rejoiced  over  their  gains  and  victories.  Then 
my  heart  began  to  fail,  and  I  fell  a  weeping;  which  was  the 
first  time,  to  my  remembrance,  that  I  wept  before  them.  Al- 
though I  had  met  with  so  much  affliction,  and  my  heart  was 
many  times  ready  to  break,  yet  could  I  not  shed  one  tear  in 
their  sight,  but  rather  had  been  all  this  while  in  a  maze,  and 
like  one  astonished ;  but  now  I  may  say  as  Psal.  137 :  1, — 
"  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon,  there  we  sat  down,  yea,  we  wept^ 


94 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


when  we  remembered  Zion.'^  There  one  of  them  asked  me 
why  I  wept.  I  could  hardly  tell  what  to  say ;  yet  I  answered, 
they  would  kill  me.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  none  will  hurt  you." 
Then  came  one  of  them,  and  gave  me  two  spoonfuls  of  meal, 
to  comfort  me,  and  another  gave  me  half  a  pint  of  peas,  which 
was  worth  more  than  many  bushels  at  another  time.  Then  I 
went  to  see  King  Philip.  He  bade  me  come  in  and  sit  down, 
and  asked  me  whether  I  would  smoke  it — a  usual  compliment 
now-a-days  among  the  saints  and  sinners ;  but  this  noway 
suited  me ;  for  though  I  had  formerly  used  tobacco,  yet  I  had 
left  it  ever  since  I  was  first  taken.  It  seems  to  be  a  bait  the 
devil  lays  to  make  men  lose  their  precious  time.  I  remember 
with  shame  how  formerly,  when  I  had  taken  two  or  three 
pipes,  I  was  presently  ready  for  another,  such  a  bewitching 
thing  it  is ;  but  I  thank  God,  he  has  now  given  me  power  over 
it.  Surely  there  are  many  who  may  be  better  employed  than 
to  sit  sucking  a  stinking  tobacco-pipe. 

Now  the  Indians  gathered  their  forces  to  go  against  North- 
ampton. Over  night  one  went  about  yelling  and  hooting  to 
give  notice  of  the  design.  Whereupon  they  went  to  boiling 
of  ground-nuts  and  parching  corn,  as  many  as  had  it,  for  their 
provision ;  and  in  the  morning  away  they  went.  During  my 
abode  in  this  place,  Philip  spake  to  me  to  make  a  shirt  for  his 
boy,  which  I  did ;  for  which  he  gave  me  a  shilling.  I  offered 
the  money  to  my  mistress,  but  she  bid  me  keep  it,  and  with  it 
I  bought  a  piece  of  horse-flesh.  Afterward  he  asked  me  to 
make  a  cap  for  his  boy,  for  which  he  invited  me  to  dinner.  I 
went,  and  he  gave  me  a  pancake  about  as  big  as  two  fin- 
gers ;  it  was  made  of  parched  wheat,  beaten  and  fried  in 
bear's  grease,  but  I  thought  I  never  tasted  pleasanter  meat  in 
my  life.  There  was  a  squaw  who  spake  to  me  to  make  a  shirt 
for  her  Sannup  ;  for  which  she  gave  me  a  piece  of  beef.  An- 
othi^r  asked  me  to  knit  a  pair  of  stockings,  for  which  she  gave 
me  a  quart  of  peas.  I  boiled  my  peas  and  beef  together,  and 
invited  my  master  and  mistress  to  dinner ;  but  the  proud  gos- 
sip, because  I  served  them  both  in  one  dish,  would  eat  nothing, 
except  one  bit  that  he  gave  her  upon  the  point  of  his  knife. 
Hearing  that  my  son  was  come  to  this  place,  I  went  to  see  him, 
and  found  him  lying  flat  on  the  ground.  I  asked  him  how  he 
could  sleep  so.  He  answered  me  that  he  was  not  asleep,  but 
at  prayer,  and  that  he  lay  so  that  they  might  not  observe  what 
he  was  doing.  I  pray  God  he  may  remember  these  things 
now  he  is  returned  in  safety.  At  this  place,  the  sun  now  get- 
ting higher,  what  with  the  beams  and  heat  of  the  sun  and 
smoke  of  the  wigwams,  I  thought  I  should  have  been  blinded. 
I  could  scarce  discern  one  wigwam  from  another.     There  was 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


35 


one  Mary  Thurston,  of  Medfield,  who,  seeing  how  it  was  with 
me,  lent  me  a  hat  to  wear ;  but  as  soon  as  I  was  gone,  the 
squaw  that  owned  that  Mary  Thurston  came  running  after  me, 
and  got  it  away  again.  Here  was  a  squaw  who  gave  me  a 
spoonful  of  meal ;  I  put  it  in  my  pocket  to  keep  it  safe,  yet 
notwithstanding  somebody  stole  it,  but  put  five  Indian  corns  in 
the  room  of  it ;  which  corns  were  the  greatest  provision  1  had 
in  my  travel  for  one  day. 

The  Indians  returning  from  Northampton  *  brought  with 
them  some  horses,  and  sheep,  and  other  things  which  they  had 
taken.  I  desired  them  that  they  would  carry  me  to  Albany 
upon  one  of  those  horses,  and  sell  me  for  powder ;  for  so  they 
had  sometimes  discoursed.  I  was  utterly  helpless  of  getting 
home  on  foot,  the  way  that  I  came.  I  could  hardly  bear  to 
think  of  the  many  weary  steps  I  had  taken  to  this  place. 

The  Ninth  Remove. — But  instead  of  either  going  to  Al- 
bany or  homeward,  we  must  go  five  miles  up  the  river,  and  then 
go  over  it.  Here  we  abode  a  while.  Here  lived  a  sorry  Indian, 
who  spake  to  me  to  make  him  a  shirt ;  when  I  had  done  it  he 
would  pay  me  nothing  for  it.  But  he  living  by  the  river-side, 
where  I  often  went  to  fetch  water,  I  would  often  be  putting  him 
in  mind,  and  calling  for  my  pay ;  at  last  he  told  me,  if  I  would 
make  another  shirt  for  a  papoose  not  yet  born,  he  would  give 
me  a  knife,  which  he  did  when  I  had  done  it.  I  carried  the 
knife  in,  and  my  master  asked  me  to  give  it  him,  and  I  was  not 
a  little  glad  that  I  had  anything  that  they  would  accept  of  and 
be  pleased  with.  When  we  were  at  this  place,  my  master's 
maid  came  home :  she  had  been  gone  three  weeks  into  the 
Narragansett  country  to  fetch  corn,  where  they  had  stored  up 
some  in  the  ground.  She  brought  home  about  a  peck  and  a 
half  of  corn.  This  was  about  the  time  that  their  great  captain, 
Naonanto,f  was  killed  in  the  Narragansett  country. 

My  son  being  now  about  a  mile  from  me,  I  asked  liberty  to 
go  and  see  him.  They  bid  me  go,  and  away  I  went ;  but  quick- 
ly lost  myself,  travelling  over  hills  and  through  swamps,  and 
could  not  find  the  way  to  him.  And  I  cannot  but  admire  at  the 
wonderful  power  and  goodness  of  God  to  me,  in  that  though  I 
was  gone  from  home  and  met  with  all  sorts  of  Indians,  and  those 
I  had  no  knowledge  of,  and  there  being  no  Christian  soul  near 
me,  yet  not  one  of  them  offered  the  least  imaginable  miscarriage 
to  me.  I  turned  homeward  again,  and  met  with  my  master,  and 
he  showed  me  the  way  to  my  son.  When  I  came  to  him,  I  found 
him  not  well ;  and  withal  he  had  a  boil  on  his  side  which  much 

*  Northampton  was  attacked  March  14,  1676. 

■tNanuntennoo".    He  was  taken  April  6th,  1676.    See  Book  of  the  la 
dia&s,  Book  iii.  49;  50.— Ed. 


36 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


troubled  him.  We  bemoaned  one  another  a  while,  as  the  Lord 
helped  us,  and  then  I  returned  again.  When  I  was  returned, 
I  found  myself  as  unsatisfied  as  I  was  before.  I  went  up  and 
down  mourning  and  lamenting,  and  my  spirit  was  ready  to  sink 
with  the  thoughts  of  my  poor  children.  My  son  was  ill,  and  I 
could  not  but  think  of  his  mournful  looks,  having  no  Christian 
friend  near  him,  to  do  any  office  of  love  to  him,  either  for  soul  or 
body.  And  my  poor  girl,  I  knew  not  where  she  was,  nor 
whether  she  was  sick  or  well,  alive  or  dead.  I  repaired  under 
these  thoughts  to  my  Bible,  (my  great  comforter  in  th^t  time,) 
and  that  scripture  came  to  my  hand,  *'  Cast  thy  hurdtn  upon 
the  Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee." — Psal.  55 :  22. 

But  I  was  fain  to  go  look  after  something  to  satisfy  my 
hunger ;  and  going  among  the  wigwams,  I  went  into  one,  and 
there  found  a  squaw  who  showed  herself  very  kind  to  me,,  and 
gave  me  a  piece  of  bear.  I  put  it  into  my  pocket  and  came 
home ;  but  could  not  find  an  opportunity  to  broil  it,  for  fear 
they  should  get  it  from  me.  And  there  it  lay  all  the  day  and 
night  in  my  stinking  pocket.  In  the  morning,  I  went  again  to 
the  same  squaw,  who  had  a  kettle  of  ground-nuts  boiling.  I 
asked  her  to  let  me  boil  my  piece  of  bear  in  the  kettle,  which 
she  did,  and  gave  me  some  ground-nuts  to  eat  with  it ;  and  I 
cannot  but  think  how  pleasant  it  was  to  me.  I  have  sometimes 
seen  bear  baked  handsomely  amongst  the  English,  and  some 
liked  it,  but  the  thoughts  that  it  was  bear  made  me  tremble. 
But  now,  that  was  savory  to  me  that  one  would  think  was 
enough  to  turn  the  stomach  of  a  brute  creature. 

One  bitter  cold  day,  I  could  find  no  room  to  sit  down  before 
the  fire.  I  went  out,  and  could  not  tell  what  to  do,  but  I  went 
into  another  wigwam,  where  they  Avere  also  sitting  round  the 
fire  ;  but  the  squaw  laid  a  skin  for  me,  and  bid  me  sit  down, 
and  gave  me  some  ground-nuts,  and  bid  me  come  again,  and 
told  me  they  would  buy  me  if  they  were  able.  And  yet  these 
were  strangers  to  me  that  I  never  knew  before. 

The  Tenth  Remove. — That  day  a  small  part  of  the  com- 
pany removed  about  three  quarters  of  a  mile,  intending  farther 
the  next  day.  When  they  came  to  the  place  they  intended  to 
lodge,  and  had  pitched  their  wigwams,  being  hungry,  I  went 
again  back  to  the  place  we  were  before  at,  to  get  something  to 
eat ;  being  encouraged  by  the  squaw's  kindness,  who  bid  me 
come  again.  When  I  was  there,  there  came  an  Indian  to  look 
after  me  ;  who,  when  he  had  found  me,  kicked  me  all  a<ong. 
I  weiit  home  and  found  venison  roasting  that  night,  but  chey 
would  not  give  me  one  bit  of  it.  Sometimes  I  met  with  favor, 
and  sometimes  with  riothing  but  frowns. 

The  Eleventh  Remove. — The  next  day  in  the  morning, 


■:i  ■ 


th( 

Itl 

a 

hill 

anj 

biiJ 

\^\ 

taW 

fa] 

inj 
m^ 


M 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


37 


satisfy  my 

0  one,  and 
to  me,,  and 
:  and  came 
it,  for  fear 
le  day  and 
nt  again  to 
boiling.  I 
ttle,  which 

1  it ;  and  I 
[Sometimes 

and  some 
tremble, 
think  was 

wn  before 
)ut  I  went 
round  the 

sit  down, 
igain,  and 

yet  these 

the  com- 

g  farther 

itended  to 

I  went 

ething  to 

o  bid  me 

n  tc  look 

11  a'ong. 

but  they 

ith  favor, 


they  took  their  travel,  intending  a  day's  journey  up  the  river; 
I  took  my  load  at  my  back,  and  quickly  we  came  to  wade  over 
a  river,  and  passed  over  tiresome  and  wearisome  hills.  One 
hill  was  so  steep,  that  I  was  fain  to  creep  up  upon  my  knees, 
and  to  hold  by  the  twigs  and  bushes  to  keep  myself  from  falling 
backward.  My  head  also  was  so  light  that  I  usually  reeled  as 
I  went.  But  I  hope  all  those  wearisome  steps  that  I  have 
taken  are  but  a  forwarding  of  me  to  the  heavenly  rest.  *'  I 
knoio,  O  Lord,  that  thy  judgments  are  right,  and  that  thou  in 
faithf'^ness  hath  affiicted  we." — Psalm  119  :  75. 

The" Twelfth  Remove. — It  was  upon  a  Sabbath-day  morn- 
ino-  that  they  prepared  for  their  travr  .  This  morning  I  asked 
my  master  whether  he  would  sell  »  to  my  husband  ;  he  an- 
swered, nux  ;  which  did  much  rejoice  iny  spirits.  My  mistress, 
before  we  went,  was  gone  to  the  burial  of  a  papoos,  and  return- 
ing, she  found  me  sitting  and  reading  in  my  Bible.  She 
snatched  it  hastily  out  of  my  hand  and  threw  it  out  of  doors. 
I  ran  out  and  caught  it  up,  and  put  it  in  my  pocket,  and  never 
let  her  see  it  afterwards.  Then  they  packed  up  their  things 
to  be  gone,  and  gave  me  my  load ;  I  complained  it  was  too 
heavy,  whereupon  she  gave  me  a  slap  on  the  face  and  bid  me 
be  gone.  I  lifted  up  my  heart  to  God,  hoping  that  redemption 
was  not  far  off;  and  the  rather  because  their  insolence  grew 
worse  and  worse. 

But  thoughts  of  my  going  homeward,  for  so  we  bent  our 
course,  much  cheered  my  spirit,  and  made  my  burden  seem 
light,  and  almost  nothing  at  all.  But,  to  my  amazement  and 
great  perplexity,  the  scale  was  soon  turned  ;  for  when  we  had 
got  a  little  way,  on  a  sudden  my  mistress  gave  out  she  would 
go  no  further,  but  turr^  back  again,  and  said  I  must  gc\  back 
agai'i  with  her ;  and  she  called  her  sannup,  and  would  have  had 
him  go  back  also,  but  he  would  not,  but  said  he  would  go  on, 
and  come  to  us  again  in  three  days.  My  spirit  was  upon  this, 
I  confess,  very  impatient,  and  almost  outrageous.  I  thought  I 
could  as  well  have  died  as  went  back.  I  cannot  declare  the 
tro  ible  that  I  was  in  about  it ;  back  again  I  must  go.  As  soon 
as  I  had  an  opportunity,  I  took  my  Bible  to  read,  and  that  qui- 
eting scripture  came  to  my  hand,  Psalm  46  :  10, — "  Be  still, 
and  know  that  I  am  God  ;'^  which  stilled  my  spirit  for  the 
present;  but  a  sore  time  of  trial  I  concluded  I  had  to  go  through; 
my  master  being  gone,  who  seemed  to  me  the  best  friend  I  had 
of  an  Indian,  both  in  cold  and  hunger,  and  quickly  so  it  proved. 
Down  I  sat,  with  my  heart  as  full  as  it  could  hold,  and  yet  so 
hungry  that  I  could  not  sit  neither.  But  going  out  to  see  what 
I  could  find,  and  walking  among  the  trees,  I  found  six  acorns 
and  two  chesnuts,  which  were  some  refreshment  to  me.     To- 


!  I 


38 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


wards  night  I  gathered  me  some  sticks  for  my  own  comfort, 
that  I  might  not  lie  cold ;  but  when  we  came  to  lie  down,  they 
bid  me  go  out  and  lie  somewhere  else,  for  they  had  company, 
they  said  come  in  more  than  their  own.  I  told  them  I  could 
not  tell  where  to  go ;  they  bid  me  go  look ;  1  told  them  if  I 
went  to  another  wigwam  they  would  be  angry  and  send  me 
home  again.  Then  one  of  the  company  drew  his  sword  and 
told  me  he  would  run  me  through  if  I  did  not  go  presently. 
Then  was  I  fain  to  stoop  to  this  rude  fellow,  and  go  out  in  the 
night  I  knew  not  whither.  Mine  eyes  hath  seen  that  fellow 
afterwards  waiking  up  and  down  in  Boston,  under  the  appear- 
ance of  a  friendly  Indian,  and  several  others  of  the  like  cut.  I 
went  to  one  wigwam,  and  they  told  me  they  had  no  room. 
Then  I  went  to  another,  and  they  said  the  same.  At  last,  an 
old  Indian  bid  me  come  to  him,  and  his  squaw  gave  me  some 
ground-nuts;  she  gave  me  also  something  to  lay  under  my 
head,  and  a  good  fire  we  had ;  through  the  good  providence 
of  God,  I  had  a  comfoi  table  lodging  that  night.  In  the  morn- 
ing, another  Indian  bid  me  come  at  night  and  he  would  give 
me  six  ground-nuts,  which  I  did.  We  were  at  this  place  and 
time  about  two  miles  from  Connecticut  river.  We  went  in  the 
morning,  to  gather  ground-nuts,  to  the  river,  and  went  back 
again  at  night.  I  went  with  a  great  load  at  my  back,  for  they 
when  thf;y  went,  though  but  a  little  way,  would  carry  all  their 
trumpery  with  them.  I  told  them  the  skin  was  off  my  back, 
but  I  had  no  other  comforting  answer  from  them  than  this,  that 
it  would  be  no  matter  if  my  head  was  off  too. 

The  Thirteenth  Remove. — Instead  of  going  towards  the 
bay,  which  was  what  I  desired,  I  must  go  with  them  five  or 
six  miles  down  the  river,  into  a  mighty  thicket  of  brush ;  where 
we  abode  almost  a  fortnight.  Here  one  asked  me  to  make  a 
shirt  for  her  papoos,  for  which  she  gave  me  a  mess  of  broth, 
which  was  thickened  with  meal  made  of  the  bark  of  a  tree ; 
and  to  make  it  better  she  had  put  into  it  about  a  handful  of 
peas,  and  a  few  roasted  ground-nuts.  I  had  not  seen  my  zon 
&  pretty  while,  and  here  was  an  Indian  of  whom  I  made  enqui- 
ry after  him,  and  asked  him  when  he  saw  him.  He  answered 
me,  that  such  a  time  his  master  roasted  him,  and  that  himself 
did  eat  a  piece  of  him  as  big  as  his  two  fingers,  and  that  he 
was  very  good  meat.  But  the  Lord  upheld  my  spirit  under 
this  discouragement ;  and  I  considered  their  horrible  addicted- 
ness  to  lying,  and  that  there  is  not  one  of  them  that  makes  the 
least  conscience  of  speaking  the  truth. 

In  this  place,  one  cold  night,  as  I  lay  by  the  fire,  I  removed 
a  stick  v/hich  kept  the  heat  from  me ;  a  squaw  moved  it  down 
again,  at  which  I  looked  up,  and  she  threw  an  handful  of  ashes 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


39 


in  my  eyes;  I  thought  I  should  have  been  quite  blinded  and 
never  have  seen  more ;  but,  lying  down,  the  water  ran  out  of 
my  eyes,  and  carried  the  dirt  with  it,  that  by  the  morning  I 
recovered  my  sight  again.  Yet  upon  this,  and  the  like  occa- 
sions, I  hope  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  with  Job,  "  Have  pity 
upon  me,  have  pity  upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends,  for  the  hand  of 
the  LORD  has  touched  me^  And  here,  I  cannot  but  remem- 
ber how  many  times,  sitting  in  their  wigwams,  and  musing  on 
things  past,  I  should  suddenly  leap  up  and  run  out,  as  if  I  had 
been  at  home,  forgetting  where  I  was,  and  what  my  condition 
was  ;  but  when  I  was  without,  and  saw  nothing  but  v/ilderness 
and  woods,  and  a  company  of  barbarous  heathen,  my  mind 
quickly  returned  to  me,  which  made  me  think  of  that  spoken 
concerning  Samson,  who  said,  "  Iivill  go  out  and  shake  myself 
as  at  other  times,  but  he  wist  not  that  the  Lord  teas  departed 
from  him." 

About  this  time  I  began  to  think  that  all  my  hopes  ot  resto- 
ration would  come  to  nothing.  I  thought  of  the  English  army, 
and  hoped  for  their  coming,  and  being  retaken  by  them,  but 
that  failed.  I  hoped  to  be  carried  to  Albany,  as  the  Indians 
had  discoursed,  but  that  failed  also.  I  thought  of  being  sold 
to  my  husband,  as  my  master  spake ;  but  instead  of  that,  my 
master  himself  was  gone,  and  I  left  behind,  so  that  my  spirit 
was  now  quite  ready  to  sink.  I  asked  them  to  let  me  go  out 
and  pick  up  some  sticks,  that  I  might  get  alone,  and  pour  out 
my  heart  unto  the  Lord.  Then  also  I  took  my  Bible  to  read, 
but  I  found  no  comfort  here  neither ;  yet,  I  can  say  in  all  my 
sorrows  and  afflictions,  God  did  not  leave  me  to  have  any  im- 
patient work  toward  himself,  as  if  his  ways  were  unrighteous; 
but  I  knew  that  he  laid  upon  me  less  than  I  deserved.  After- 
ward, before  this  doleful  time  ended  with  me,  I  was  turning 
the  leaves  of  my  Bible,  and  the  Lord  brought  to  me  some 
scripture  which  did  a  little  revive  me ;  as  that,  Isa.  55  :  8, — 
^^For  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  my  ways 
your  ways,  saith  the  Lord."  And  also  that.  Psalm  37  :  5, — 
"Commit  thy  loays  unto  the  Lord,  trust  also  in  him,  and  he 
shall  bring  it  to  pass." 

About  this  time,  they  came  yelping  from  Hadley,*  having 
there  killed  three  1-  nglishmen,  and  brought  one  captive  with 
them,  viz.  Thomas  Reed.  They  all  gathered  about  the  poor 
man,  asking  him  many  questions.  I  desired  also  to  go  and 
see  him ;  ani.  when  I  came,  he  was  crying  bitterly,  supposing 

*In  the  beginning  of  April,  a  numb'.r  of  the  inhabitants  of  Hadley, 
having  ventured  out  some  distance  from  the  guard,  for  the  purpose  of  ill 
lage,  were  attacked  by  the  Indians,  and  three  of  them  killed. 


'I 


il^i 


40 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


they  would  quickly  kill  him.  Whereupon  I  asked  one  of  them 
whether  they  intended  to  kill  him  ;  he  answered  me  they 
would  not.  He  being  a  little  cheered  with  that,  I  asked  him 
about  the  welfare  of  my  husband  ;  he  told  me  he  saw  him  such 
a  time  in  the  Bay,  and  he  was  well,  but  very  melancholy.  By 
which  I  certainly  understood,  though  I  suspected  it  before,  that 
whatsoever  the  Indians  told  me  respecting  him  was  vanity  and 
lies.  Some  of  them  told  me  he  was  dead,  and  they  had  killed 
him  ;  some  said  he  was  married  again,  and  that  the  governor 
wished  him  to  marry,  and  told  him  that  he  should  have  his 
choice  ;  and  that  all  persuaded  him  that  I  was  dead.  So  like 
were  these  barbarous  creatures  to  him  who  was  a  liar  from  the 
beginning. 

As  I  was  sitting  once  in  the  wigwam  here,  Philip's  maid 
came  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  asked  me  to  give  her  a 
piece  of  my  apron  to  make  a  flap  for  it.  I  told  her  I  would 
not ;  then  my  mistress  bid  me  give  it,  but  I  still  said  no ;  the 
maid  told  me  if  I  would  not  give  her  a  piece,  she  would  tear 
a  piece  off  it.  I  told  her  I  would  tear  her  coat  then ;  with 
that  my  mistress  rises  up,  and  takes  up  a  stick  big  enough  to 
have  killed  me,  and  struck  at  me  with  it,  but  I  stept  out,  and 
she  struck  the  stick  into  the  mat  of  the  wigwam.  But  while 
she  was  pulling  it  out,  I  ran  to  the  maid,  and  gave  her  all  my 
apron ;  and  so  that  storm  went  over. 

Hearing  that  my  son  was  come  to  this  place,  I  went  to  see 
him,  and  told  him  his  father  was  well,  but  very  melancholy. 
He  told  me  he  was  as  much  grieved  for  his  father  as  for  him- 
self. I  wondered  at  his  speech,  for  I  thought  I  had  enough 
upon  my  spirit,  in  reference  to  myself,  to  make  me  mindless  of 
my  husband  and  every  one  else,  they  being  safe  among  their 
friends.  He  told  me  also,  that  a  while  before,  his  master,  to- 
gether with  other  Indians,  were  going  to  the  French  for  powder; 
but  by  the  way  the  Mohawks  met  with  them,  and  killed  four  of 
their  company,  which  made  the  rest  turn  back  again  ;  for  which 
I  desire  that  myself  and  he  may  ever  bless  the  Lord ;  for  it 
might  have  been  worse  with  him  had  he  been  sold  to  the 
French,  than  it  proved  to  be  in  his  remaining  with  the  Indians. 

I  went  to  see  an  English  youth  in  this  place,  one  John  Gil- 
bert, of  Springfield.  I  found  him  laying  without  doors  upon 
the  ground.  I  asked  him  how  he  did  ;  he  told  me  he  Avas  very 
sick  of  a  flux  with  eating  so  much  blood.  They  had  tu'"^ed 
h^iii  out  of  the  wigwam,  and  with  him  an  Indian  papoos, 
almost  dead,  (whose  parents  had  been  killed,)  in  a  bitter  cold 
day,  without  fire  or  clothes ;  the  young  man  himself  had 
nothing  on  but  his  shirt  and  waistcoat.  This  sight  was  enough 
to  melt  a  heart  of  flint.     There  they  lay  quivering  in  the  cold, 


k 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


41 


the  youth  round  like  a  dog,  the  papoc^  stretched  out,  with  hia 
eyes,  nose,  and  mouth  full  of  dirt,  and  yet  alive,  and  groaning. 
I  advised  John  to  go  and  get  to  some  fire  ;  he  told  me  he  could 
not  stand,  but  I  persuaded  him  still,  lest  he  should  lie  there 
and  die.  And  with  much  ado  I  got  him  to  a  fire,  and  went 
myself  home.  As  soon  as  I  was  got  home,  his  master's  daugh- 
ter came  after  me,  to  know  what  I  had  done  with  the  English- 
man ;  I  told  her  I  had  got  him  to  a  fire  in  such  a  place.  Now 
had  J  need  to  pray  Paul's  prayer,  2  Thess.  3  :  2, — "  that  we 
may  be  delivered  from  unreasonable  and  wicked  men."  For 
her  satisfaction  I  went  along  with  her,  and  brought  her  to  him ; 
but  before  I  got  home  again,  it  was  noised  about  that  I  was 
running  away,  and  getting  the  English  youth  along  with  me ; 
that  as  soon  as  I  came  in,  they  began  to  rant  and  domineer, 
asking  me  where  I  had  been,  and  what  I  had  been  doing,  and 
saying  they  would  knock  me  on  the  head.  I  told  them  I  had 
been  seeing  the  English  youth,  and  that  I  would  not  run  away. 
They  told  me  I  lied,  and  getting  up  a  hatchet,  they  cams  to 
me  and  said  they  would  knock  me  down  if  I  stirred  out  again ; 
and  so  confined  me  to  the  wigwam.  Now  may  I  say  with 
David,  2  Sam.  24:  14, — "  I  atn  in  a  grert  strait."  If  I  keep 
in,  I  must  die  with  hunger ;  and  if  I  go  out,  I  must  be  knocked 
on  the  head.  This  distressed  c  ndition  held  that  day,  and  half 
the  next ;  and  then  the  Lord  remembered  me,  whose  mercies 
are  great.  Then  came  an  Indian  to  me  with  a  pair  of  stock- 
ings which  were  too  big  for  him,  and  he  would  have  me 
ravel  them  out,  and  knit  them  fit  for  him.  I  showed  myself 
willing,  and  bid  him  ask  my  mistress  if  I  might  go  along  with 
him  a  little  way.  She  said  yes,  I  might ;  but  I  was  not  a  little 
refreshed  with  that  news,  that  I  had  my  liberty  again.  Then 
I  went  along  with  him,  and  he  gave  me  some  roasted  ground- 
nuts, which  did  again  revive  my  feeble  stomach. 

Being  got  out  of  her  sight,  I  had  time  and  liberty  again  to 
look  into  my  Bible,  which  was  my  guide  by  day,  and  my  pil- 
low by  night.  Now  that  comfortable  scripture  presented  itself 
to  me,  Isa.  45  :  7, — "  For  a  small  moment  have  I  forsaken  thee, 
hut  loith  great  mercies  will  I  gather  thee."  Thus  the  Lord 
carried  me  along  from  one  time  to  another,  and  made  good  to 
me  this  precious  promise  and  many  others.  Then  my  son 
came  to  see  me,  and  I  asked  his  master  to  let  him  stay  a  while 
with  me,  that  I  might  comb  his  head  and  look  over  him,  for  he 
was  almost  overcome  with  lice.  He  told  me  when  I  had  done 
that  he  was  very  hungry,  but  I  had  nothing  to  relieve  him,  but 
bid  him  go  into  the  wigwams  as  he  went  along,  and  see  if  he 
could  get  any  thing  among  them  ;  which  he  did,  and,  it  seems, 

tarried  a  little  too  long,  for  his  master  was  angry  with  him,  and 
4* 


i 


49 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


it' 


beat  him,  and  then  sold  him.  Then  he  came  running  to  tell 
me  he  had  a  new  master,  and  that  he  had  given  him  some 
ground-nuts  already.  Then  I  went  along  with  him  to  his  new 
master,  who  told  hie  he  loved  him,  and  he  should  not  want. 
So  his  master  carried  him  away;  and  I  never  saw  him  after- 
ward, till  I  saw  him  at  Piscataqua,  in  Portsmouth. 

That  night  they  bid  me  go  out  of  the  wigwam  again  ;  my 
mistress's  papoos  was  sick,  and  it  died  that  night ;  and  there 
was  one  benefit  in  it,  that  there  was  more  room.  I  went  to  a 
wigwam  and  they  bid  me  come  in,  and  gave  me  a  skin  \o  lie 
upon,  and  a  mess  of  venison  and  ground-nuts,  which  was  a 
choice  dish  among  them.  On  the  morrow  they  buried  the 
papoos ;  and  afterward,  both  morning  and  evening,  there  came 
a  company  to  mourn  and  howl  with  her  ;  though  I  confess  I 
could  not  much  condole  with  them.  Many  sorrowful  days  I 
had  in  this  place ;  often  getting  alone,  "  like  a  crane  or  a 
swalloio,  so  did  I  chatter  ;  I  did  mourn  as  a  dove;  mine  eyes  fail 
with  looking  upioard.  O  Lord,  I  am  oppressed,  undertake  for 
me." — Isa.  38  :  14.  I  could  tell  the  Lord  as  Hezekiah,  ver.  3, 
**  Bcmemher  noiv,  O  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  how  I  have  walked  be- 
fore thee  in  truth."  Now  had  I  time  to  examine  all  my  ways. 
My  conscience  did  not  accuse  me  of  unrighteousness  towards 
one  or  another ;  yet  I  saw  how  in  my  walk  with  God  I  had  been 
a  careless  creature.  As  David  said,  "  against  thee  only  have  1 
sinned."  And  I  might  say  with  the  poor  publican,  "  God  be 
merciful  unto  me  a  sinner. "  Upon  the  Sabbath  days  I  could 
look  upon  the  sun,  and  think  how  people  were  going  to  the 
house  of  God  to  have  their  souls  refreshed,  and  then  home  and 
their  bodies  also  ;  but  I  was  destitute  of  both,  and  might  say 
as  the  poor  prodigal,  "  He  would  fain  have  filled  his  belly  loith 
the  huiks  that  the  sioine  did  eat,  and  no  man  gave  unto  him." 
Luke  15:  16.  For  I  must  say  with  him,  ^^  Father,  I  have  sin- 
ned against  heaven  and  in  thy  sight." — Ver.  21.  I  remember 
how  on  the  night  before  and  after  the  Sabbath,  when  m^y  fam- 
ily was  about  me,  arid  relations  and  neighbors  with  us,  we 
could  pray,  and  sing,  and  refresh  our  bodies  with  the  good 
creatures  of  God,  and  then  have  a  comfortable  bed  to  lie  down 
on  ;  but  instead  of  all  this,  I  had  only  a  little  swill  for  the  body, 
and  then,  like  a  swine,  must  lie  down  on  the  ground.  I  cannot 
express  to  man  the  sorrow  that  lay  upon  my  spirit,  the  Lord 
knows  it.  Yet  that  comfortable  scripture  w^ould  often  come  to 
my  mind, — "  For  a  small  moment  have  I  forsaken  thee,  but  with 
great  mercies  vnll  I  gather  thee." 

The  Fourteenth  Remove. — Now  must  we  pack  up  and  be 
gone  from  this  thicket,  bending  our  course  towards  the  Bay 
towns ;  I  having  nothing  to  eat  by  the  way  this  day  but  a  few 


i> 


good 
down 
e  body, 
cannot 
le  Lord 
;ome  to 
ut  with 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


43 


crums  of  cake  that  an  Indian  gave  my  girl  the  same  day  we 
were  taken.  She  gave  it  me,  'xnd  I  put  it  in  my  pocket. 
There  it  lay,  till  it  was  so  mcu^-i^,  for  want  of  good  baking, 
that  one  could  not  tell  what  it  was  made  of;  it  fell  all  into 
crums,  and  grew  so  dry  and  hard  that  it  was  like  little  flints ; 
and  this  refreshed  me  many  times  when  I  was  ready  to  faint. 
It  was  in  my  thoughts  when  I  put  it  to  my  mouth,  that  if  ever 
I  returned  1  would  tell  the  world  what  a  blessing  the  Lord 
gave  to  such  mean  food.  As  we  went  along,  they  killed  a 
deer,  with  a  young  one  in  her.  They  gave  me  d  piece  of  the 
fawn,  and  it  was  so  young  and  tender  that  one  might  eat  the 
bones  as  well  as  the  flesh,  and  yet  I  thought  it  very  good. 
When  night  came  on  we  sat  down.  It  rained,  but  they  quickly 
got  up  a  bark  wigwam,  where  I  lay  dry  that  night.  I  looked 
out  in  the  morning,  and  many  of  them  had  lain  in  the  rain  all 
night,  I  knew  by  their  reeking.  Thus  the  Lord  dealt  merci- 
fully with  mc  many  times,  and  I  fared  better  than  many  of 
them.  Ir.  the  morning  they  took  the  blood  of  the  deer,  and 
put  it  into  the  paunch,  and  so  boiled  it.  I  could  eat  nothing 
of  that,  though  they  eat  it  sweetly.  And  yet  they  were  so 
nice  in  other  things,  that  when  I  had  fetched  water,  and  had 
put  the  dish  I  dipped  the  water  with  into  the  kettle  of  water 
which  I  brought,  they  would  say  they  would  knock  me  down, 
for  they  said  it  was  a  sluttish  trick. 

The  Fifteenth  Remove. — We  went  on  our  travel.  I  hav- 
ing got  a  handful  of  ground-nuts  for  my  support  that  day, 
they  gave  me  my  load,  and  I  went  on  cheerfully,  with  tne 
thoughts  of  going  homeward,  having  my  burthen  more  upon 
my  back  than  my  spirit.  We  came  to  Baquaug  river  again 
that  day,  near  which  we  abode  a  few  days.  Sometimes  one 
of  them  would  give  me  a  pipe,  another  a  little  tobacco,  another 
a  little  salt,  which  I  would  change  for  victuals.  I  cannot  but 
think  what  a  wolfish  appetite  persons  have  in  a  starving  con- 
dition ;  for  many  times,  wh^n  they  gave  me  that  which  was 
hot,  I  was  so  greedy,  that  I  should  burn  my  mouth,  that  it 
would  trouble  me  many  hours  after,  and  yet  I  should  quickly 
do  the  like  again.  And  after  I  was  thoroughly  hungry,  I  was 
never  again  satisfied ;  for  though  it  sometimes  fell  out  that  I 
had  got  enough,  and  did  eat  till  I  could  eat  no  more,  yet  I  was 
as  unsatisfied  as  I  was  when  I  began.  And  now  could  I  see 
that  scripture  verified,  there  being  many  scriptures  that  we  do 
not  take  notice  of  or  understand  till  we  are  afflicted,  Mic.  6 :  14, 
— "  Thou  shalt  eat  and  not  be  satisfied.'^  Now  might  I  see  more 
than  ever  before  the  miseries  that  sin  hath  brought  upon  us. 
Many  times  I  should  be  ready  to  run  out  against  the  heathen, 
but  that  scripture  would  quiet  me  again,  Amos  3 :  6, — "  ShaU 


H 

i; 

.i 

■A 

? 

1 

1 

1 

1 

» 

1 

1 

i 

44 


MKS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


there  be  evil  in  the  city,  and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it  ?  "  The 
Lord  help  me  to  make  a  right  improvement  of  his  word,  that  I 
might  learn  that  great  lesson,  Mie.  6  :  8,  9, — "  He  hath  showed 
thee,  O  man,  what  is  good  ;  and  wJiat  doth  the  Lord  require  of 
thee,  but  to  do  justly  and  lore  mercy,  and  ivalk  humbly  loith  thy 
Godf    Hear  ye  the  rod,  and.  who  hath  appointed  it." 

The  Sixteenth  REiMovE. — We  began  this  remove  with 
wading  over  Baquaug  river.  The  water  was  up  to  our  knees, ' 
and  the  stream  very  swift,  and  so  cold  that  I  thought  it  would 
have  cut  me  in  sunder.  I  was  so  weak  and  feeble  that  I  reeled 
as  I  went  along,  and  thought  there  I  must  end  my  days  at  last, 
after  my  bearing  and  getting  through  so  many  difficulties. 
The  Indians  stood  laughing  to  see  me  staggering  along,  but  in 
my  distress  the  Lord  gave  me  experience  of  the  truth  and 
goodness  of  that  promise,  Isa.  43:  2, — "WAew  thou  passeth 
through  the  water  I  ivill  be  with  thee,  and  through  the  rivers, 
they  shall  not  overjhw  thee."  Then  I  sat  down  to  put  on  my 
stockings  and  shoes,  with  the  tears  running  down  my  eyes, 
and  many  sorrowful  thoughts  in  my  heart.  But  I  got  up  to 
go  along  with  them.  Quickly  there  came  up  to  us  an  Indian 
who  informed  them  that  I  must  go  to  Wachusef*  to  my  mas- 
ter, for  there  was  a  letter  come  from  the  council  to  the  saga- 
mores about  redeeming  the  captives,  and  that  there  would  be 
another  i.i  fourteen  days,  and  that  I  must  be  there  ready.  My 
heart  was  so  heavy  before  that  I  could  scarce  speak  or  go  in 
the  path,  and  yet  now  so  light  that  I  could  run.  My  strength 
seemed  to  come  again,  and  to  recruit  my  feeble  knees  and 
aching  heart;  yet  it  pleased  them  to  go  but  one  mile  that 
night,  and  there  we  staid  two  days.  In  that  time  came  a  com- 
pany of  Indians  to  us,  near  thirty,  all  on  horseback.  My  heart 
skipped  within  me,  thinking  they  had  been  Englishmen,  at  the 
first  sight  of  them ;  for  they  were  dressed  in  English  apparel, 
with  hats,  white  neckcloths,  and  sashes  about  their  waists,  and 
ribbons  upon  their  shoulders.  But  when  they  came  near  there 
was  a  vast  difference  between  the  lovely  faces  of  Christians 
and  the  foul  looks  of  those  heathen,  which  much  damped  my 
spirits  again. 

The  Seventeenth  Remove. — A  comfortable  remove  it  was 
to  me,  because  of  my  hopes.  They  gave  me  my  pack  and 
along  we  went  cheerfully.     But  quickly  my  will  proved  more 

*  Princeton.  The  mountain  in  this  town  still  retains  the  name  jf  Wa- 
chuset,  notwithstanding  a  recent  attempt  to  change  it  to  Mount  .idams. 

fl  venerate  the  name  of  Adams,  but  I  must  protest  against  the  'leathen- 
ike  practice  ot  destroying  the  old  names  of  places.  The  interior  of  New 
York  deserves  to  be  chastised  by  an  earthquake  for  such  libellous  con* 
duct. — Ed.] 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


4ff 


than  my  strength ;  having  little  or  no  refreshment,  my  strength 
failed,  and  my  spirits  were  almost  quite  gone.  Now  may  I 
say  as  David,  Psal.  109:  22,  23,  24, — ^'I  am  poor  and  7ieedy, 
and  viy  heart  is  wounded  toithin  me.  I  am  gone  like  a  shadow 
vihen  it  declineth.  I  am  tossed  up  and  down  like  the  locust. 
My  knees  are  weak  through  fasting,  and  my  flesh  faileth  of  fat- 
ness" At  night  we  came  to  an  Indian  town,  and  the  Indians 
sat  down  by  a  wigwam  discoursing,  but  I  was  almost  spent 
and  could  scarce  speak.  I  laid  down  my  load  and  went  into 
the  wigwam,  and  there  sat  an  Indian  boiling  of  horse-feet, 
tiiey  being  wont  to  eat  the  flesh  first,  and  when  the  feet  were 
old  and  dried,  and  they  had  nothing  else,  they  would  cut  off 
the  feet  and  use  them.  I  asked  him  to  give  me  a  little  of  his 
broth,  or  water  they  were  boiling  it  in.  He  took  a  dish  and 
gave  me  one  spoonful  of  samp,  and  bid  me  take  as  much  of 
the  broth  as  I  would.  Then  I  put  some  of  the  hot  water  to 
the  samp,  and  drank  it  up,  and  my  spirits  came  again.  He 
gave  me  also  a  piece  of  the  ruffe,  or  ridding  of  the  small  guts, 
and  I  broiled  it  on  the  coals ;  and  now  I  may  say  with  Jona- 
than, "(See,  1  pray  you,  how  mine  eyes  are  enlightened  because 
I  tasted  a  little  of  this  honey." — 1  Sam.  14:  20.  Now  is  my 
spirit  revived  again.  Though  means  be  never  so  inconside- 
rable, yet  if  the  Lord  bestow  his  blessing  upon  them,  they  shall 
refresh  both  soul  and  body. 

The  Eighteenth  Remove. — We  took  up  our  packs,  and 
along  we  went ;  but  a  wearisome  day  I  had  of  it.  As  we 
went  along,  I  ^j,w  an  Englishman  stripped  naked  and  lying 
dead  upon  the  ground,  but  knew  not  who  he  was.  Then  we 
came  to  another  Indian  town,  where  we  staid  all  night.  In 
this  town  there  were  four  English  children  captives,  and  one 
of  them  my  own  sifter's.  I  went  to  see  how  she  did,  and  she 
was  well,  considering  her  captive  condition.  I  would  have 
tarried  that  night  with  her,  but  they  that  owned  her  would  not 
suffer  Jit.  Then  I  went  to  another  wigwam,  where  they  were 
boiling  corn  and  beans,  which  was  a  lovely  sight  to  see,  but  I 
could  not  get  a  taste  thereof.  Then  I  went  into  another  wig- 
wam, where  there  were  two  of  the  English  children.  The 
squaw  was  boiling  horses'  feet.  She  cut  me  off  a  little  piece, 
and  gave  one  of  tha  English  children  a  piece  also.  Being 
very  hungry,  I  had  quickly  eat  up  mine ;  but  the  child  could 
not  bite  it,  it  was  so  tough  and  sinewy,  and  lay  sucking,  gnaw- 
ing, and  slabbering  of  it  in  the  mouth  and  hand ;  then  I  took 
it  of  the  child,  md  eat  it  myself,  and  savory  it  was  to  my  taste: 
that  I  may  say  as  Job,  chap.  6 :  7, — "  The  things  that  my  soul 
refuseth  to  touch  are  as  my  sorrowful  meat."  Thus  the  Lord 
made  that  pleasant  and  refreshing  which  another  time  would 


46 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


have  been  an  abomination.  Then  I  went  home  to  my  mis- 
tress' wigwam,  and  they  told  me  I  disgraced  my  master  with 
begging,  and  if  I  did  so  any  more  they  would  knock  me  on 
the  head.  I  told  them  they  had  as  good  do  that  as  starve  me 
to  death. 

The  Nineteenth  Remove. — They  said  when  we  went  out 
that  we  must  travel  to  Wachuset  this  day.  But  a  bitter  weary 
day  I  had  of  it,  travelling  now  three  days  together,  without 
resting  any  day  between.  At  last,  after  many  weary  steps,  1 
saw  Wachuset  hills,  but  many  miles  off.  Tlien  we  came  to  a 
great  swamp,  through  which  we  travelled  up  to  our  knees  in 
mud  and  water,  which  was  heavy  going  to  one  tired  before. 
Being  almost  spent,  I  thought  I  should  have  sunk  down  at 
last,  and  never  got  out;  but  I  may  say  as  in  Psalm  94:  18, — 
^^When  my  foot  slipped,  thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  held  me  up.^^ 
Going  along,  having  indeed  my  life,  but  little  spirit,  Philip, 
who  was  in  the  company,  came  up,  and  took  me  by  the  hand, 
and  said,  "  Two  jveeks  more  and  you  shall  be  mistress  again." 
I  asked  him  if  he  spoke  true.  He  said,  "  Yes,  and  quickly 
you  shall  come  to  your  master  again ;"  who  had  been  gone 
from  us  three  weeks.  After  many  weary  steps,  we  came  to 
Wachuset,  where  he  was,  and  glad  was  I  to  see  him.  He 
asked  me  when  I  washed  me.  I  told  him  not  this  month. 
Then  he  fetched  me  some  water  himself,  and  bid  me  wash, 
and  gave  me  a  glass  to  see  how  I  looked,  and  bid  his  squaw 
give  me  something  to  eat.  So  she  gave  me  a  mess  of  beans 
and  meat,  and  a  little  ground-nut  cake.  I  was  wonderfully 
revived  with  this  favor  showed  me.  Psalm  106:  46, — ^^He 
made  them  also  to  be  pitied  of  all  those  that  carried  them  away 
captive. ^^ 

My  master  had  three  squaws,  living  sometimes  with  one 
and  sometimes  with  another :  Onux,  this  old  squaw  at  whose 
wigwam  I  was,  and  with  whom  my  master  had  been  these 
three  weeks.  Another  was  Wettimore,^  with  whom  I  h^i^ 
lived  and  served  all  this  while,  A  severe  and  proud  dame 
she  was,  bestowing  every  day  in  dressing  herself  near  as  much 
time  as  any  of  the  gentry  of  the  land  ;  powdering  her  hair  and 
painting  her  face,  going  with  her  necklaces,  with  jewels  in  her 
ears,  and  bracelets  upon  her  hands.  When  she  had  dressed 
herself,  her  work  was  to  make  girdles  of  wampum  and  beads. 
The  third  squaw  was  a  younger  one,  by  whom  he  had  two 
papooses.  By  that  time  I  was  refreshed  by  the  old  squaw, 
Wettimore's  maid  came  to  call  me  home,  at  which   I  fell  a 

*  She  had  been  he  wife  of  Alexander,  Philip's  elder  brother.  See 
Book  of  the  Indians. 


MFS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


47 


weeping.  Then  the  old  squaw  told  me,  to  encourn^e  me,  that 
when  I  wanted  victuals  I  .should  come  to  her,  and  that  I  should 
lie  in  her  wigwam.  Then  I  went  with  the  maid,  and  quickly 
I  came  back  and  lodged  there.  The  squaw  laid  a  mot  under 
me,  and  a  good  rug  ovCi  me  ;  the  first  time  that  I  had  any  such 
kindness  showed  me.  I  understood  that  Wetiimore  thought, 
that  if  she  should  let  me  go  and  serve  with  the  old  squaw,  she 
should  be  in  danger  to  lose  not  only  my  service,  but  the  re- 
demption-pay also.  And  I  was  not  a  little  glad  to  hear  this ; 
being  by  it  raised  in  my  hopes  that  in  God's  due  time  there 
would  be  an  end  of  this  sorrowful  hour.  Then  came  an  Indian 
and  asked  me  to  knit  him  three  pair  of  stockings,  for  which  I 
had  a  hat  and  a  silk  handk3rchief.  Then  another  asked  me 
to  make  her  a  shift,  for  which  she  gave  me  an  apron. 

Then  came  Tom  and  Peter  with  the  second  letter  from  the 
council,  about  the  captives.  Though  they  were  Indians,  I  gat 
them  by  the  hand,  and  burst  out  into  tears ;  my  heart  was  so 
full  that  I  could  not  speak'  to  them ;  but  recovering  myself,  I 
asked  them  how  my  husband  did,  and  all  my  friends  and 
acquaintance.  They  said  they  were  well,  but  very  melancholy. 
They  brought  me  two  biscuits  and  a  pound  of  tobacco.  The 
tobacco  I  soon  gave  away.  When  it  was  all  gone  one  asked 
me  to  give  him  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  I  told  him  it  was  all  gone. 
Then  he  began  to  rant  and  threaten.  I  told  him  when  my 
husband  came  I  would  give  him  some.  ••  Hang  him,  rogue," 
says  he ;  "I  will  knock  out  his  brains  if  he  comes  here."  And 
then  again  at  the  same  breath  they  would  say  that  if  there 
should  come  an  hundred  without  guns  they  would  do  them  no 
hurt ;  so  unstable  and  like  madmen  they  were.  So  that  fear- 
ing the  worst,  I  durst  not  send  to  my  husband,  though  there 
were  some  thoughts  of  his  corning  to  redeem  and  fetch  me,  not 
knowing  what  might  follow ;  for  there  was  little  more  trust  to 
them  than  to  the  master  they  served.  When  the  letter  was 
come,  the  sagamores  met  to  consult  about  the  captives,  and 
called  me  to  them,  to  inquire  how  much  my  husband  would 
give  to  redeem  me.  When  I  came  I  sat  down  among  them, 
as  I  was  wont  to  do,  as  their  manner  is.  Then  they  bid  me 
stand  up,  and  said  they  were  the  general  court.  They  bid  me 
speak  what  I  thought  he  would  give.  Now  knowing  that  all 
that  we  had  was  destroyed  by  the  Indians,  I  was  in  a  great 
strait.  I  thought  if  I  should  speak  of  but  a  little,  it  would  be 
slighted  and  hinder  the  matter;  if  of  a  great  sum,  I  knew  not 
where  it  would  be  procured ;  yet  at  a  venture  I  said  twenty 
pounds,  yet  desired  them  to  take  less  ;  but  they  would  not  hear 
of  that,  but  sent  the  message  to  Boston,  that  for  twenty  pounds 
I  should  be  redeemed.     It  was  a  praying  Indian  that  wrote 


ii     i 


48 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


> ;  X 


» 


It 


their  letters  for  them.*  There  was  another  praying  Indian, 
who  told  me  that  he  had  a  brother  that  would  not  eat  horse, 
his  conscience  was  so  tender  and  scrjjpulous,  though  as  large 
as  hell  for  the  destruction  of  poor  Christians.  Then  he  said 
he  read  that  scripture  to  him,  2  Kings  6  :  25, — "  There  was  a 
famine  in  Samaria,  and  behold  they  besieged  it,  until  an  ass's 
head  was  sold  for  fourscore  pieces  of  silver,  and  the  fourth  part 
of  a  kab  of  dove's  dung  for  Jive  pieces  of  silver."  He  expound- 
ed this  place  to  his  broi'  ix,  and  showed  him  that  it  was  lawful 
to  eat  that  in  a  famine  which  it  is  not  at  another  time.  "And 
now,"  says  ho,  •'  he  will  eat  horse  with  any  Indian  of  them 
all."  There  was  another  praying  Indian,!  who,  when  he  had 
done  all  the  mischief  that  he  could,  betrayed  his  own  father 
into  the  English's  hands,  thereby  to  purchase  his  own  life. 
Another  praying  Indian  was  at  Sudbury  fight,  though,  as  he 
deserved,  he  was  afterwards  hanged  for  it.  There  was  another 
praying  Indian  so  wicked  and  cruel  as  to  wear  a  string  about 
his  neck  strung  with  Christian  fingers.  Another  praying  In- 
dian, when  they  went  to  Sudbury  fight,  wgfit  with  them,  and 
his  squaw  also  with  him,  with  her  papoos  at  her  back.t  Be- 
fore they  went  to  that  fight,  they  got  a  company  together  to 
powow.     The  manner  was  as  followeth. 

There  was  one  that  kneeled  upon  a  deer-skin,  with  the  com- 
pany around  him  in  a  ring,  who  kneeled,  striking  upon  the 
ground  with  their  hands  and  with  sticks,  and  muttering  or 
humming  with  their  mouths.  Besides  him  who  kneeled  in 
♦he  ring  there  also  stood  one  with  a  gun  in  his  hand.  Then 
he  on  the  deer-skin  made  a  speech,  and  all  manifested  assent 
to  it ;  and  so  they  did  many  times  together.  Then  they  bid 
him  with  a  gun  go  out  of  the  ring,  which  he  did ;  but  when 
he  was  out,  they  called  him  in  again ;  but  he  seemed  to  make 
a  stand.  Then  they  called  the  more  earnestly,  till  he  turned 
again.  Then  they  all  sang.  Then  they  gave  him  two  guns, 
in  each  hand  one.  And  so  he  on  the  deer-skin  began  again ; 
and  at  the  end  of  every  sentence  in  his  speaking  they  all 
assented,  and  humming  or  muttering  with  their  mouths,  and 
striking  upon  the  ground  with  their  hands.  Then  they  bid 
him  with  the  two  guns  go  out  of  the  ring  again ;  which  he  did 

*  They  may  be  seen  in  the  Book  of  the  Indians. 

t  Peter  Jethro. — lb    . 

1  These  remarks  ot  Mrs.  Rowlandson  are  no  doubt  just.  The  praying 
Indians,  after  all,  take  them  as  a  class,  made  but  sorry  Christians.  More 
comfortable  dwellings,  a  few  blankets  every  year,  some  small  privileges, 
and  a  little  increase,  for  the  time,  of  personal  consideration,  were  motives 
sufficiently  strong  to  induce  savages  to  change  their  religious  faith,  which 
at  best  hung  but  very  loosely  about  them. 


! 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


49 


a  little  way.  Then  they  called  him  again,  but  he  made  a  stand, 
so  they  called  him  with  greater  earnestness;  but  he  stood 
reeling  and  waverjng,  as  if  he  knew  not  whether  he  should 
stand  or  fall,  or  which  way  to  go.  Then  they  called  him  with 
exceeding  great  vehemency,  all  of  them,  one  and  another. 
After  a  little  while  he  turned  in,  staggering  as  he  went,  with 
his  arms  stretched  out,  in  each  hand  a  gun.  As  soon  as  he 
came  in,  they  all  sang  and  rejoiced  excpedingly  a  while,  and 
then  he  upon  the  deer-skin  made  ane-%er  speech,  unto  which 
they  all  assented  in  a  rejoicing  ma^i^ner ;  and  so  they  ended 
their  business,  and  forthwith  went  to  Sudbury  fight.''^ 

To  my  thinking,  they  went  without  any  scruple  but  that 
they  should  prosper  and  gain  the  victory.  And  they  went  out 
not  so  rejoicing,  but  they  came  home  with  as  great  a  victory ; 
for  they  said  they  killed  two  captains  and  almost  an  hundred 
men.  One  Englishman  they  brought  alive  with  them,  and  he 
said  it  was  too  true,  for  they  had  made  sad  work  at  Sudbury ; 
as  indeed  it  proved.  Yet  they  came  home  without  that  rejoic- 
ing and  triumphing  over  their  victory  which  they  were  wont 
to  show  at  other  times ;  but  rather  like  dogs,  as  they  say,  which 
have  lost  their  cars.  Yet  I  could  not  perceive  that  it  was  for 
their  own  loss  of  men ;  they  said  they  lost  not  above  five  or 
six ;  and  I  missed  none,  except  in  one  wigwam.  When  they 
went  they  acted  as  if  the  devil  had  told  them  that  they  should 
gain  the  victory,  and  now  they  acted  as  if  the  devil  had  told 
them  they  should  have  a  fall.  Whether  it  were  so  or  no,  I 
cannot  tell,  but  so  it  proved ;  for  they  quickly  began  to  fall, 
and  so  held  on  .hat  summer,  till  they  came  to  utter  ruin.  They 
came  home  on  a  Sabbath  day,  and  tLe  pawaw  that  kneeled 
upon  the  deer-skin  came  home,  I  may  say  without  any  abuse, 
as  black  as  the  devil.  When  my  master  came  home  he  came 
to  me  and  bid  me  make  a  shirt  for  his  papoos,  of  a  Holland 
laced  pillowbeer. 

About  that  time  there  came  an  Indian  to  me,  and  bid  me 
come  to  his  wigwam  at  night,  and  he  would  give  me  some  pork 
and  ground-nuts,  which  I  did ;  and  as  I  was  eating,  another 
Indian  said  to  me,  "  He  seems  to  be  your  good  friend,  but  he 
killed  two  Englishmen  at  Sudbury,  and  there  lie  the  clothes 
behind  you."  I  looked  behind  me,  and  there  I  saw  bloody 
clothes,  with  bullet-holes  in  them ;  yet  the  Lord  suffered  not 
this  wretch  to  do  me  any  hurt,  yea,  instead  of  that,  he  many 
times  refreshed  me :  five  or  six  times  did  he  and  his  squaw 
refresh  my  feeble  carcass.  If  I  went  to  their  wigwam  at  any 
time,  they  would  always  give  me  something,  and  yet  they  were 

*  Sudbury  was  attacked  21st  April. 
^  6 


f- 


60 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


strangers  that  I  never  saw  before.  Another  squaw  gave  me  a 
piece  of  fresh  pork,  and  a  little  salt  with  it,  and  lent  me  her  frying 
pan  to  fry  it ;  and  I  cannot  but  remember  what  a  sweet,  pleasant 
and  delightful  relish  that  bit  had  to  me,  to  this  day.  So  little 
do  we  prize  common  mercies,  when  we  have  them  to  the  full. 

The  Twentieth  Remove. — It  was  their  usual  manner  to 
remove  when  they  had  done  any  mischief,  lest  they  should  be 
found  out ;  and  so  they  did  at  this  time.  We  went  about 
three  or  four  miles,  and  there  they  built  a  great  wigwam,  big 
enough  to  hold  an  hundred  Indians,  which  they  did  in  prepa- 
ration to  a  great  day  of  dancing.  They  would  now  say  among 
themselves  that  the  governor^  would  be  so  angry  for  his  loss 
at  Sudbury  that  he  would  send  no  more  about  the  captives, 
which  made  me  grieve  and  tremble.  My  sistert  being  not  far 
from  this  place,  and  hearing  that  I  was  here,  desired  her  mas- 
ter to  let  her  come  and  see  me,  and  he  was  willing  to  it,  and 
would  come  with  her ;  but  she,  being  ready  first,  told  him  she 
would  go  before,  and  was  come  within  a  mile  or  two  of  the 
place.  Then  he  overtook  her,  and  began  to  rant  as  if  he  had 
been  mad,  and  made  her  go  back  again  in  the  rain  ;  so  that  I 
never  saw  her  till  I  saw  her  in  Charlestown.  But  the  Lord 
requited  many  of  their  ill  doings,  for  this  Indian,  her  master, 
wr^s  hanged  afterwards  at  Boston.^  They  began  now  to  come 
from  all  quarters,  against  their  merry  dancing  day.  Amongst 
some  of  them  came  one  goodwife  Kettle.  I  told  her  my  heart 
was  so  heavy  that  it  was  ready  to  break.  "  So  is  mine  too," 
said  she,  "  but  yet  I  hope  we  shall  hear  some  good  news  short- 
ly." I  could  hear  how  earnestly  my  sister  desired  to  see  me, 
and  I  earnestly  desired  to  see  her  ;  yet  neither  of  us  could  get 
an  opportunity.  My  daughter  was  now  but  a  mile  off,  and  I 
had  not  seen  ner  for  nine  or  ten  weeks,  as  I  had  not  seen  my 
sister  since  our  first  taking.  I  desired  them  to  let  me  go  and 
see  them,  yea  I  entreated,  begged  aad  persuaded  them  to  let 
me  see  my  daughter  ;  and  yet  so  hard-hearted  were  they  that 
they  would  not  suffer  it.  They  made  use  of  their  tyrannical 
power  whilst  they  had  it,  but  through  the  Lord's  wonderful 
mercy  their  time  was  now  but  short. 

On  a  Sabbath  day,  the  sun  being  about  an  hour  high  in  the 
afternoon,  came  Mr.  John  Hoar,  (the  council  permitting  him, 
and  his  own  forward  spirit  inclining  him,)  together  with  the 
two  forementioned  Indians,  Tom  and  Peter,  with  the  third  let- 
ter from  the  council.     When  they  came  near,  I  was  abroad. 


•  Leverett.  f  Mrs,  Drew. 

%  Mrs.  Drew's  master  was  probably  Monoco. 
hanged  at  the  same  time,  viz.  26th  Sept.  1676. 


T> 
Tl 


Several  chiefs  were 


# 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


in 


Ui  H 


heart 
too," 
short- 
ee  me, 
Id  get 
and  I 
en  my 
go  and 
to  let 
y  that 
nnical 
iderful 


Thfjy  presently  called  n>3  in,  and  bid  me  sit  down  and  not  stir. 
Then  they  catched  up  their  guns  and  away  they  ran,  as  if  an 
enemy  had  been  At  hard,  and  the  guns  went  off  apace.  I 
manifested  some  great  trouble,  and  asked  them  what  was  the 
matter.  I  toid  them  I  thought  they  had  killed  the  English- 
man, (for  they  had  in  the  mean  time  told  me  that  an  English- 
man was  come;)  they  said  no  ;  they  shot-over  his  horse,  and 
under,  and  before  his  horse,  and  they  pushed  him  this  way 
and  that  way,  at  their  pleasure,  showing  him  what  they  could 
do.  Then  they  let  him  come  to  their  wigwams.  I  begged  of 
them  to  let  me  see  the  Englishman,  but  they  would  not ;  but 
there  was  I  fain  to  sit  their  pleasure.  When  they  had  talked 
their  fill  with  him,  they  suffered  me  to  go  to  him.  We  asked 
each  other  of  our  welfare,  and  how  my  husband  did,  and  all 
my  friends.  He  told  me  they  were  all  well,  and  would  be  glad 
to  see  me.  Among  other  things  which  my  husband  sent  me, 
there  -"ai:  ;^ound  of  tobacco,  which  I  sold  for  nine  shillings 
in  mom/;  i-t  many  of  them  for  want  of  tobacco  smoked 
hemlock  «iiju  ground-ivy.  It  was  a  great  mistake  in  any  who 
thought  I  sent  for  tobacco,  for  through  the  favor  of  God  that 
desire  was  overcome. 

I  now  asked  them  whether  I  should  go  home  with  Mr. 
Hoar.  They  answered  no,  one  and  another  of  them,  and  it 
being  late,  we  lay  down  with  that  answer.  In  the  morning 
Mr.  Hoar  invited  the  sagamores  to  dinner  ;  but  when  we  went 
to  get  it  ready,  we  found  they  had  stolen  the  greatest  part  of 
the  provisions  Mr.  Hoar  had  brought.  And  we  may  see  the 
wonderful  power  of  God,  in  that  one  passage,  in  that  when., 
there  was  such  a  number  of  them  together,  and  so  greedy  of 
a  little  good  food,  and  no  English  there  but  Mr.  Hoar  and 
myself,  that  there  they  did  not  knock  us  on  the  head  and  take 
what  we  had ;  there  being  not  only  some  provision,  but  also 
trading  cloth,  a  part  of  the  twenty  pounds  agreed  upon.  But 
instead  of  doing  us  any  mischief,  they  seemed  to  be  ashamed 
of  the  fact,  and  said  it  was  the  matchit^  Indians  that  did  it. 
Oh  that  we  could  believe  that  there  was  nothmg  too  hard  for 
God.  God  showed  his  power  over  the  heathen  in  this,  as  he 
did  over  the  hungry  lions  when  Daniel  was  cast  into  the  den. 

Mr.  Hoar  called  them  betime  to  dinner,  but  they  ate  but  little, 
they  being  so  busy  in  dressing  themselves  and  getting  ready  for 
their  dance ;  which  was  carried  on  by  eight  of  them,  four  men  and 
four  squaws,  my  master  and  mistress  being  two.  He  was  dres- 
sed in  his  Holland  shirt,  with  great  stockings,  his  garters  hung 
round  with  shillings,  and  had  girdles  of  wampom  upon  his 


*  Wicked. 


52 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


head  and  shoulders.  She  had  a  kersey  coat,  covered  with  gir- 
dles of  wampom  from  the  loins  upward.  Her  arms  from  her 
olbows  to  her  hands  were  covered  with  bracelets  ;  there  were 


handful 
jewels  i 
shoes,  ^ 
always 
same  manner 


"  necklaces  about  her  neck,  and  several  sorts  of 

er  ears.     She  had  fine  red  stockings,  and  white 

hair  powdered,  and  her  face  painted  red,  that  was 

k>efore  black.     And  all  the  dancers  were  after   the 

There  were  ♦'''o  others  singing  and  knocking 


on  a  kettle  for  their  music.  They  kept  hopping  up  and  down 
one  after  another,  with  a  kettle  of  water  in  the  midst,  stand- 
ing warm  upon  some  embers,  to  drink  of  when  they  were  dry. 
They  held  on  till  almost  night,  throwing  out  their  wampom  to 
the  standers-by.  At  night  I  asked  them  again  if  I  should  go 
home.  They  all  as  one  said  no,  except  my  husband  would 
come  lor  me.  When  we  were  Iain  down,  my  master  went  out 
of  the  wigwam,  and  by  and  by  sent  in  an  Indian  called  James 
the  printer,  who  told  Mr.  Hoar  that  my  master  would  let  me 
go  home  to-morrow  if  he  would  let  him  have  one  pint  of 
liquor.  Then  Mr.  Hoar  called  his  own  Indians,  Tom  and  Pe- 
ter, and  bid  them  all  go  and  see  if  he  would  promise  it  before 
them  three,  and  u  he  would  he  should  have  it ;  which  he  did 
and  had  it.  Philip,  smelling  the  business,  called  me  to  him, 
and  asked  me  what  I  would  give  him  to  tell  me  some  good 
nev/s,  and  to  speak  a  good  word  for  me,  that  I  might  go  home 
to-morrow.  I  told  him  I  coujd  not  tell  what  to  give  him,  I 
would  any  thing  I  had,  and  asked  hm  what  he  would  have. 
He  said  two  :oats,  and  twenty  shillings  in  money,  half  a  bushel 
of  seed  corn,  and  some  tobacco.  I  thanked  him  for  his  love, 
but  I  knew  that  good  news  as  well  as  that  crafty  fox. 

My  master,  after  he  had  his  drink,  quickly  came  ranting 
into  the  wigwam  again,  and  called  for  Mr.  Hoar,  drinking  to 
him  and  saying  he  was  a  good  man,  and  then  again  he  would 
say,  "hang  him,  a  rogue."  Being  almost  drunk,  he  would 
drink  to  him,  and  yet  presently  say  he  should  be  hanged. 
Then  he  called  for  me.  I  trembled  to*hear  him,  and  yet  I  was 
fain  to  go  to  him  ;  and  he  drank  to  me,  showing  no  incivility. 
He  was  the  first  Indian  I  saw  drunk,  all  the  time  1  was  among 
them.  At  last  his  squaw  ran  out,  and  he  after  her  round  the 
wigwam,  with  his  money  jingling  at  his  knees,  but  she  es- 
caped him  ;  but  having  and  old  squaw,  he  ran  to  her,  and  so 
through  the  Lord's  mercy  we  were  no  more  troubled  with  him 
that  night.  Yet  I  had  not  a  comfortable  night's  rest ;  f-"  I 
think  I  can  say  I  did  not  sleep  for  three  nights  together.  The 
night  before  the  letter  came  from  the  council,  I  could  not  rest, 
I  was  so  full  of  fears  and  troubles ;  yea,  at  this  time  I  could 
not  rest  night  nor  day.     The  next  night  I  was  overjoyed,  Mr. 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


63 


Hoar  being  come,  and  that  with  such  good  tid  ngs.  The  third 
night  I  was  even  swallowed  up  with  the  thoughts  of  going 
home  again,  and  that  I  must  leave  my  children  behind  me  in 
the  wilderness  ;  so  that  sleep  was  now  almost  departed  fiom 
mine  eyes. 

On  'Tuesday  morning  they  called  their  General  Court,  as 
they  styled  it,  to  consult  and  determine  whether  I  should  go 
home  or  no.  And  they  all  seemingly  consented  that  I  should 
go,  except  Philip,  who  Avould  not  come  among  them. 

But  before  I  go  any  farther,  I  would  take  leave  to  mention 
a  few  remarkable  passages  of  Providence,  which  I  took  spe- 
cial notice  of  in  my  afflicted  time. 

1.  Of  the  fair  opportunity  lost  in  the  long  march,  a  little 
after  the  fort  fight,  when  our  English  army  was  so  numerous, 
and  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  and  so  near  as  to  overtake  seve- 
ral and  destroy  ihem  ;  and  the  enemy  in  such  distress  for 
food  that  our  men  might  track  them  by  th^ir  rooting  the 
ground  for  ground-nuts,  whilst  they  were  flying  for  their  lives : 
I  say,  that  then  our  army  should  want  provisions,  and  be 
obliged  to  leave  their  pursuit,  and  turn  homeward,  and  the  very 
next  week  the  eneniy  came  upon  our  town,  like  bears  bereft  of 
their  whelps,  or  so  many  ravenous  wolves,  rending  us  and  our 
lambs  to  death.  But  what  shall  I  say  ?  God  seemed  to 
leave  his  people  to  themselves,  and  ordered  all  things  for  his 
own  holy  ends.  "  Shall  there  be  evil  in  the  city  and  the  Lord 
hath  not  done  it  ?  They  are  not  grieved  for  the  affliction  of 
Joseph,  therefore  they  shall  go  captive  loith  the  first  that  go 
captive.  It  is  the  Lord's  doings  and  it  should  be  marvellous  in 
our  eyes.''^ 

2.  I  cannot  but  remember  how  the  Indians  derided  the  slow- 
ness and  the  dulness  of  the  English  army  in  its  setting  out ; 
for  after  the  desolations  at  Lancaster  and  Medfield,  as  I  went 
along  with  them,  they  asked  me  when  T  thought  the  English 
army  would  come  after  them.  I  told  them  I  could  not  tell. 
"  It  may  be  they  will  come  in  May,"  said  they.  Thus  ihey 
did  scoff"  at  us,  as  if  the  English  would  be  a  quarter  of  a 
year  getting  ready. 

3.  Which  also  I  have  hinted  before,  when  the  English  army 
with  new  supplies  were  sent  forth  to  pursue  after  the  enemy, 
and  they,  understanding  it,  fled  before  them  till  they  came  to 
Baquaug  river,  where  they  forthwith  went  over  safely ;  that 
the  river  should  be  impassable  to  the  English.  I  cannot  but 
admire  to  see  the  wonderful  provi  "e  of  God  in  preserving 
the  heathen  for  further  affliction  to  our  poor  country.  They 
could  go  in  weal  numbers  over,  but  the  English  must  stop. 
God  had  an  overruling  hand  in  all  those  things. 

5*  %' 


'i 

xffm 


mm 


wBwuiiinuiaiajtAjgBiitMaaa 


64 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


4.  It  was  thought,  if  their  corn  were  cut  down,  tliey  woi  \? 
starve  and  die  with  hunger  ;  and  all  that  could  he  found  was 
destroyed,  and  they  driven  from  thi..  little  they  had  in  store 
into  the  woods,  in  the  midst  of  winter  ;  and  yet  how  to  admi- 
ration did  the  Lord  preserve  them  for  his  holy  ends,  and  the 
destruction  of  many  still  among  the  English  !  Strangely  did 
the  Lord  pre  t  for  them,  that  I  did  not  sec,  all  the  time  I 
was  among  m,  one  man,  woman,  or  child  die  with  hunger. 
Though  many  times  they  would  eat  that  that  a  hog  would 
hardly  touch,  yet  hy  that  God  strengthened  them  to  be  a 
scourge  to  his  people. 

Their  chief  and  commonest  food  was  ground-nuts  ;  they  eat 
also  nuts  and  acorns,  artichokes,  lilly  roots,  ground  beans,  and 
several  other  weeds  and  roots  that  I  know  not.  They  would 
pick  up  old  bones,  and  cut  them  in  pieces  at  the  joints,  and  if 
they  were  full  of  worms  and  maggots  they  would  scald  them 
over  the  fire,  to  make  the  vermin  come  out,  and  then  boil 
them,  and  drink  up  the  liquor,  and  then  beat  the  great  ends  of 
them  in  a  mortar,  and  so  eat  them.  They  would  eat  horses' 
guts  and  ears,  and  all  sorts  of  wild  birds  which  they  could 
catch ;  also  bear,  venison,  beavers,  tortoise,  frogs,  squirrels, 
dogs,  skunks,  rattle-snakes,  yea  the  very  bark  of  trees ;  be- 
sides all  sorts  of  creatures,  and  provisions  which  they  plun- 
dered from  the  English.  I  can  but  stand  in  admiration  to  see 
the  wonderful  power  of  God,  in  providing  for  such  a  vast 
number  of  our  enemies  in  the  wilderness,  where  thore  was 
nothing  to  be  seen  but  from  hand  to  mouth.  Many  times  in 
the  morning  the  generality  of  them  would  eat  up  all  ti^ey  had, 
and  yet  have  some  farther  supply  against  they  wanted.  But 
now  our  perverse  and  evil  carriages  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord 
have  so  offended  him,  that  instead  of  turning  his  hand  against 
them,  the  Lord  feeds  and  nourishes  them  up  to  be  a  scourge 
to  the  whole  land. 

5.  Another  thing  that  I  would  observe  is,  the  strange  provi- 
dence of  God  in  turning  things  about  when  the  Indians  were 
at  the  highest  and  the  English  at  the  lowest.  I  was  with  the 
enemy  eleven  weeks  and  five  days,*  and  not  one  week  passed 
without  their  fury  and  some  desolation  by  fire  or  sAvord  upon 
one  place  or  other.  They  mourned  for  their  own  losses,  yet 
triumphed  and  rejoiced  in  their  inhuman  and  devilish  cruelty 
to  the  English.  They  would  boast  much  of  their  victories, 
saying  that  in  two  hours'  time  they  had  destroyed  such  a  cap- 
tain and  his  company,  in  such  a  place  ;  and  boast  how  many 
towns  they  had  destroyed,  and  then  scoff  and  say  they  had  done 

*  Viz.  frona  Feb.  10  to  May  2d  or  3d. 


■  f 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


a    vast 


piovi- 
is  were 
nth  the 
passed 
[d  upon 
ses,  yet 
|cruelty 
itories, 
a  cap- 
many 
Id  done 


66 


them  a  good  turn  to  send  them  to  heaven  so  soon.  Again  they 
would  say  this  summer  they  would  knock  all  the  rogues  on 
the  head,  or  drive  them  into  the  sea,  or  make  them  fly  the 
country  ;  thinking ,  surely,  Agag-like,  "  The  bitterness  of  death 
is  passed."  Now  the  heathen  begin  to  think  all  is  their  own  ; 
and  the  poor  Christians'  hopes  fall,  (as  to  rnan,)  and  now  their 
eyes  are  more  to  God,  and  their  hearts  sigh  heaven-ward,  and 
they  say  in  good  earnest,  "  Help,  Lord,  or  toe  perish."  When 
the  Lord  had  brought  his  people  to  this,  that  they  saw  no  help 
in  any  thing  but  himself,  then  he  takes  the  quarrel  into  his 
own  hand ;  and  though  they  made  a  pit  as  deep  as  hell  for 
the  Christians  that  summer,  yet  the  Lord  hurled  themselves 
into  it.  And  the  Lord  had  not  so  many  ways  before  to  pre- 
serve them,  but  now  he  hath  as  many  to  destroy  them. 

But  to  return  again  to  my  going  home  ;  where  we  may  see 
a  rem.arkable  change  of  providence.  At  first  they  were  all 
against  it>  except  my  husband  would  come  for  me ;  but  after- 
ward they  assented  to  it,  and  seeming  to  rejoice  in  it ;  some 
asking  me  to  send  them  some  bread,  others  some  tobacco,  oth- 
ers shaking  me  by  the  hand,  offering  me  a  hood  and  scarf  to 
ride  in :  not  one  moving  hand  or  tongue  against  it.  Thus 
hath  the  Lord  answered  my  poor  desires,  and  the  many  ear- 
nest requests  of  others  put  up  unto  God  for  me.  In  my  travels 
an  Indian  came  to  me,  and  told  me  if  I  were  willing  he  a  id  his 
squaw  would  run  away,  and  go  home  along  with  me.  I  told 
them  no,  I  was  not  willing  to  run  away,  but  desired  to  wait 
God's  time,  that  I  might  go  home  quietly  and  without  fear. 
And  now  God  hath  granted  me  my  desire.  O  the  wonderful 
power  of  God  that  I  have  seen,  and  the  experiences  that  I 
have  had !  I  have  been  in  the  midst  of  those  roaring  lions 
and  savage  bears,  that  feared  neither  God,  nor  man,  nor  the 
devil,  by  night  and  day,  alone  and  in  company,  sleeping  all 
sorts  together,  and  yet  not  one  of  them  ever  offered  the  least 
abuse  of  unchastity  to  me  in  word  or  action ;  though  some 
are  ready  to  say  I  speak  it  for  my  own  credit ;  but  I  speak  it 
in  the  presence  of  God,  and  to  his  glory.  God's  power  is  as 
great  now  as  it  was  to  save  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den,  or  the 
three  children  in  the  fiery  furnace.  Especially  that  I  should 
come  away  in  the  midst  of  so  many  hundreds  of  enemies,  and 
not  a  dog  move  his  tongue. 

So  I  took  my  leave  of  them,  and  in  coming  along  my  heart 
melted  into  tears  more  than  all  the  while  I  was  with  them, 
and  I  was  almost  swallowed  up  with  the  thoughts  that  ever  I 
should  go  home  again.  About  the  sun's  going  down,  Mr. 
Hoar,  myself,  and  the  two  Indians,  came  to  Lancaster ;  and  a 
solemn  sight  it  was  to  me.     There  had  I  lived  many  comfort- 


I 


i 


56 


MRS.  ROWL\NDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


able  years  nmong  my  relations  and  neighbors,  and  now  not 
one  Christian  to  be  seen,  or  one  house  left  standing.  We 
went  on  to  a  farm-house  that  was  yet  standing,  where  we  lay 
all  night ;  and  a  comfortable  lodging  we  had,  though  nothing 
but  straw  to  lie  on.  The  Lord  preserved  us  in  safety  that  night, 
raised  us  up  again  m  the  morning,  and  carried  us  along,  that 
before  noon  we  came  to  Concord.  Now  was  I  full  of  joy,  and 
yet  not  without  sorrow :  joy  to  see  such  a  lovely  signt,  so 
many  Christians  together,  and  some  of  them  my  ne'ghbors. 
There  I  met  with  my  brother  and  brother-in-law,*  who  asked 
me  if  I  knew  where  his  wife  was.  Poor  heart !  he  had  helped 
to  bury  her,  and  knew  it  not.  She,  being  shot  down  by  the 
house,  was  partly  burnt ;  so  that  those  who  were  at  Boston  at 
the  desolation  oi  the  town  came  back  afterward  and  buried  the 
dead,  but  did  not  know  her.  Yet  I  was  not  without  sorrow, 
to  think  how  many  were  looking  and  longing,  and  my  own 
children  among  the  rest,  to  enjoy  that  deliverance  that  I  had 
now  received  ;  and  I  did  not  know  whether  ever  I  should  see 
them  again. 

Being  recruited  with  food  and  raiment,  we  went  to  Boston 
that  day,  where  I  met  with  my  dear  husband ;  but  the  thoughts 
of  our  dear  children,  one  being  dead,  and  the  other  we  could 
not  tell  where,  abated  our  comfort  in  each  other.  I  was  not 
before  so  much  hemmed  in  by  the  merciless  and  cruel  heathen, 
but  now  as  much  with  pitiful,  tender-hearted,  and  compassion- 
ate Christians.  In  that  poor  and  beggarly  condition,  I  was 
received  in,  I  was  kindly  entertained  in  several  houses.  So 
much  love  I  received  from  several,  (many  of  whom  I  knew 
not,)  that  I  am  not  capable  to  declare  it.  But  the  Lord  knows 
them  all  by  name  ;  the  Lord  reward  them  sevenfold  into  their 
bosoms  of  his  spirituals  for  their  temporals.  The  twenty 
pounds,  the  price  of  my  redemption,  was  raised  by  some  Bos- 
ton gentlewomen,  and  Mr.  Usher,  [Hezekiah  ?]  whose  bounty 
and  charity  I  would  not  forget  to  make  mention  of.  Then 
Mr.  Thomas  Shepard,  of  Charlestown,  received  us  into  his 
house,  where  we  continued  eleven  weeks  ;  and  a  father  and 
mother  they  were  unto  us.  And  many  more  tender-hearted 
friends  we  met  with  in  that  place.  We  were  now  in  the 
midst  of  love,  yet  not  without  much  and  frequent  heaviness  of 
heart  for  our  poor  children  and  other  relations  who  were  still 
in  affliction. 

The  week  following,  after  my  coming  in,  the  governor  and 
council  sent  to  the  Indians  again,  and  that  not  without  success ; 
for  they  brought  in  my  sister  and  goodwife  Kettle.     Their  not 

Capt.  Eerley. 


MRS.  KOWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


67 


knowing  where  our  children  were  was  a  sore  trial  to  us  still ; 
and  yet  we  were  not  without  secret  hopes  of  seeing  them  again. 
That  which  was  dead  lay  heavier  upon  my  spirits  than  those 
which  were  alive  among  the  heathen ;  thinking  how  it  suffered 
with  its  wounds,  and  I  was  not  able  to  relieve  it,  and  how 
it  was  buried  by  the  heathen  in  the  wilderness  from  among  all 
Christians.  We  were  hurried  up  and  down  in  our  thoughts  ; 
sometimes  we  should  hear  a  report  that  they  were  gone  this 
way  and  sometimes  that,  and  that  they  were  come  in  in  this 
place  or  that ;  we  kept  inquiring  and  listening  to  hear  con- 
cerning them,  but  no  certain  news  as  yet.  About  this 
time  the  council  had  ordered  a  day  of  public  thanksgiving, 
though  I  had  still  cause  of  mourning ;  and  being  unsettled  ia 
our  mmds,  we  thought  we  would  ride  eastward,  to  see  if  we 
could  hear  any  thing  concerning  our  children.  As  we  were 
riding  along  between  Ipswich  and  Rowley,  we  met  with  Wil- 
liam Hubbard,  who  told  us  our  son  Joseph  and  my  sister's  son 
were  come  into  Major  Waldren's.  I  asked  him  how  he  knew 
it.  He  said  the  major  himself  told  him  so.  So  al^ng  we 
went  till  we  came  to  Newbury  ;  and  their  minister  being  ab- 
sent, they  desired  my  husband  to  preach  the  thanksgiving  for 
them  ;  but  he  was  not  willing  to  stay  there  that  night,  but  he 
would  go  over  to  Salisbury,  to  hear  farther,  and  come  again  in 
the  morning,  which  he  did,  and  preached  there  that  day.  At 
night,  when  he  had  done,  one  came  and  told  him  that  his 
daughter  was  come  into  Providence.  Here  was  mercy  on 
both  hands.  Now  we  were  between  them,  the  one  on  the 
east,  and  the  other  on  the  west.  Our  son  being  nearest,  we 
went  to  him  first,  to  Portsmouth,  where  we  met  with  him,  and 
with  tiie  major  also  ;  who  told  us  he  had  done  what  he  could, 
but  could  not  redeem  him  under  seven  poiinds,  which  the  good 
people  thereabouts  were  pleased  to  pay.  The  Lord  reward  the 
major,  and  all  thp  rest,  though  unknown  to  me,  for  their  labor 
of  love.  My  sister's  son  was  redeemed  for  four  pounds,  which 
the  council  gave  order  for  the  payment  of.  Having  now  re- 
ceived one  of  our  children,  we  hastened  toward  the  other. 
Going  back  through  Newbury,  my  husband  preached  there  on 
the  Sabbath  day,  for  which  they  rewarded  him  manifold. 

On  Monday  we  came  to  Charlestown,  where  we  heard 
that  the  governor  of  Rhode  Island  had  sent  over  for  our  daugh- 
ter, to  take  care  of  her,  being  now  within  his  jurisdiction ; 
which  should  not  pass  without  our  acknowledgments.  But 
she  being  nearer  Rehoboth  than  Rhode  Island,  Mr.  Newman 
went  over  and  took  care  of  her,  and  brought  her  to  his  own 
house.  And  the  goodness  of  God  was  admirable  to  us  in  our 
low  estate,  in  that  he  raised  up  compassionate  friends  on  every 


:j?...-ii-.:"J-..\.-s' 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  C/PTIVITY. 


side,  when  we  had  nothing  to  recompense  any  for  their  love. 
The  Indians  were  now  gone  that  way,  th^t  it  was  apprehend- 
ed dangerous  to  go  to  her ;  but  the  carts  which  carried  provis- 
ion to  the  English  army,  being  guarded,  brought  her  with 
them  to  Dorchester,  where  wc  received  her  safe.  Blessed  be 
the  Lord  for  it.  Her  coming  in  was  after  thii  manner  :  she 
was  travelling  one  day  with  the  Indians,  with  her  basket  at 
her  back ;  the  company  of  Indians  were  got  before  her,  and 
gone  out  of  sight,  all  except  one  squaw.  She  followed  the 
squaw  till  night,  and  then  both  of  them  lay  down,  having 
nothing  over  them  but  the  heavens,  nor  under  them  but  the 
earth.  Thus  she  travelled  three  days  together,  having  noth- 
ing to  eat  or  drink  but  water  and  green  hirtleberries.  At  last 
they  came  into  Providence,  where  she  was  kindly  entertained 
by  several  of  that  town.  The  Indians  often  said  that  I  should 
never  have  her  under  twenty  pounds,  but  now  the  Lord  hath 
brought  her  in  upon  free  cost,  and  given  her  to  me  the  second 
time.  The  Lord  make  us  a  blessing  indeed  to  each  other. 
Thus  hath  the  Lord  brought  me  and  mine  out  of  the  horrible 
pit,  and  hath  set  us  in  the  midst  of  tender-hearted  and  com- 
passionate Christians.  'T  is  the  desire  of  my  soul  that  we 
may  walk  worthy  of  the  mercies  received  and  which  we  are 
receiving. 

Our  family  being  now  gathered  together,  the  South  church 
in  Boston  hired  a  house  for  us.  Then  we  removed  from  Mr. 
Shepard's  (those  cordial  friends)  and  went  to  Boston,  where 
we  continued  about  three  quarters  of  a  year.''*'  Still  the  Lord 
went  along  with  us,  and  provided  graciously  for  us.  I 
thought  it  somewhat  strange  to  set  up  housekeeping  with  bare 
walls,  but,  as  Solomon  bays,  money  ansivers  all  things ;  and 
this  we  had  through  the  benevolence  of  Christian  friends,  some 
in  this  town,  and  some  in  that,  and  others,  and  some  from 
England,  that  in  a  little  time  we  might  look  and  see  the  house 
furnished  with  love.  The  Lord  hath  been  exceeding  good  to 
us  in  our  low  estate,  in  that  when  we  had  neither  house  nor 
home,  nor  other  necessaries,  the  Lord  so  moved  the  hearts  of 
these  and  those  towards  us,  that  we  wanted  neither  food  nor 
raiment  for  ourselves  or  ours.  Prov.  IS  :  24,  "  There  is  a 
friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brolher.^^  And  how  many 
such  friends  have  we  found,  and  now  living  among  us  !  And 
truly  have  we  found  him  to  be  such  a  friend  unto  us  in  whose 
house  we  lived,  viz.  Mr.  James  Whitcomb,  a  friend  near  hand 
and  far  off. 

I  can  remember  the  time  when  I  used  to  sleep  quietly,  with- 

*  Till  May,  1677. 


MRS.  ROWLANDSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


59 


out  working  in  my  thoughts,  whole  nights  together  ;  but  now 
it  is  otherwise  with  me.  When  all  are  fast  about  me,  and  no 
eye  open,  but  His  who  ever  awaketh,  my  thoughts  are  upon 
things  past,  upon  the  awful  dispensations  of  the  Lord  towards 
us,  upon  his  wonderful  power  and  might  in  carrying  of  us 
through  so  many  difficulties,  in  returning  us  in  safety,  and 
suffering  none  to  hurt  us.  I  remember  in  the  night  season 
how  the  other  dcy  I  was  in  the  midst  of  thousands  of  enemies, 
and  nothing  but  death  before  me.  It  was  then  hard  work  to  per- 
suade myself  that  ever  I  should  be  satisfied  with  bread  again. 
But  now  we  are  fed  with  the  finest  of  the  wheat,  and,  as  I 
may  say,  with  honey  out  of  the  rock.  Instead  of  the  husks  we 
have  the /at  calf.  The  thoughts  of  these  things  in  the  partic- 
ulars of  them,  and  of  the  love  and  goodness  of  God  towards 
us,  make  it  true  of  me,  what  David  said  of  himself,  Psal.  6 :  6, 
— '•  I  water  my  couch  with  my  tears."  O  the  wonderful  power 
of  God  that  mine  eyes  have  seen,  aflfording  matter  enough 
for  my  thoughts  to  run  in,  that  when  others  are  sleeping  mine 
eyes  are  weeping. 

I  have  seen  the  extreme  vanity  of  this  world.  One  hour  I 
have  been  in  health,  and  wealth,  wanting  nothing,  but  the  next 
hour  in  sickness,  and  wounds,  and  death,  having  nothing  but 
sorrow  and  affliction.  Before  I  knew  what  affliction  meant  I 
was  ready  sometimes  lo  wish  for  it.  When  I  lived  in  pros- 
perity, having  the  comforts  of  this  world  about  me,  my  rela- 
tions by  me,  and  my  heart  cheerful,  and  taking  little  care  for 
any  thing,  and  yet  seeing  many,  whom  I  preferred  before  ray- 
self,  under  many  trials  and  afflictions,  in  sickness,  weakness, 
poverty,  losses,  crosses,  and  cares  of  the  world,  I  should  be 
sometimes  jealous  lest  I  should  have  my  portion  in  this  life. 
But  now  I  see  the  Lord  had  his  time  to  scourge  and  chasten 
me.  The  portion  of  some  is  to  have  their  affliction  by  drops, 
but  the  wine  of  astonishment^  like  a  sweeping  rain  that  leaveth 
no  food,  did  the  Lord  prepare  to  be  my  portion.  Affliction  I 
wanted,  d  affliction  1  had,  full  measure,  pressed  down  and 
running  over.  Yet  I  see  when  God  calls  persons  to  never  so 
many  difficulties,  yet  he  is  able  to  carry  them  through,  and 
make  them  say  they  have  been  gainers  thereby ;  and  I  hope  I 
can  say,  in  some  measure,  as  David,  it  is  good  for  me  that  I 
have  been  afflicted.  The  Lord  hath  showed  me  the  vanity  of 
these  outward  things,  that  they  are  the  vanities  of  vanities  and 
vexation  of  spirit ;  that  they  are  but  a  shadow,  a  blast,  a  bubble, 
and  things  of  no  continuance.  If  trouble  from  smaller  matter 
begin  to  rise  in  me,  I  have  something  at  hand  to  check  myself 
with,  and  say,  "  Why  am  I  troubled  ?"  It  was  but  the  other 
day  that  if  I  had  the  world  I  would  have  given  it  for  my  free* 


iS^ 


60 


I 


STOCKWELL'S   CAPTIVITY. 


dom,  or  to  have  been  a  servant  to  a  Christian.  I  have  learned 
to  look  beyond  present  and  smaller  troubles,  and  to  be  quieted 
under  them,  as  Moses  said,  Exod.  14 :  13, — "  Stand  still  and 
see  the  salvation  of  the  Lord." 


NARRATIVE 

OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  OP  QUINTIN  STOCKWELL,  WHO  WAS  TA- 
KEN  AT  DEERFIELD,  IN  MASSACHUSETTS,  BY  A  PARTY  OP 
INLAND  INDIANS,  IN  THE  YEAR  1677;  COMMUNICATED  IN 
HIS  OWN  WORDS,  AND  ORIGINALLY  PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
EMINENT  DR.  INCREASE  MATHER,  IN  THE  YEAR  1684. 


A  particular  account  of  the  irruption  in  which  Stockwell  and  others  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Indians  will  be  found  in  the  Book  of  the  Indians, 
Book  iii,  p.  97  and  98.  Out  of  twenty-four  at  that  time  killed  and  taken, 
ire  learn  the  names  only  of  these  ;  Quintin  Stockwell,  John  Root,  Sergeant 
Plimpton,  Benjamin  Stebbins,  his  wife,  Benjamin  Waite,  and  Samuel  Rus- 
sell. Plimpton  was  burnt  in  their  cruel  manner,  Root  was  killed,  and 
Stebbins  escaped.    Of  the  others  I  have  learned  nothing. 


In  the  year  1677,  September  the  19th,  between  sunset  and 
dark,  the  Indians  came  upon  us.  I  and  another  man,  being 
together,  we  ran  away  at  the  outcry  the  Indians  made,  shout- 
ing and  shooting  at  some  others  of  the  English  that  were  hard 
by.  We  took  a  swamp  that  was  at  hand  for  our  refuge  ;  the 
enemy  espying  us  so  near  them,  run  after  us,  and  shot  many 
guns  at  us ;  three  guns  were  discharged  upon  me,  the  enemy 
being  within  three  rods  of  me,  besides  many  others  before  that. 
Being  in  this  swamp,  which  was  miry,  I  slumped  in  and  fell 
down,  whereupon  one  of  the  enemy  stepped  to  me,  with  his 
hatchet  lifted  up  to  knock  me  on  the  head,  supposing  that  I  had 
been  wounded  and  so  unfit  for  any  other  travel.  I,  as  it  hap- 
pened, had  a  pistol  by  me,  which,  though  uncharged,  I  presented 
to  the  Indian,  who  presently  stepped  back,  and  told  me  if  I 
would  yield  I  should  have  no  hurt ;  he  said,  which  was  not 
true,  that  they  had  destroyed  all  Hatfield,  and  that  the  woods 
were  full  of  Indians,  whereupon  I  yielded  myself,  and  falling 
into  their  hands,  was  by  three  of  them  led  away  unto  the  place 
whence  first  I  began  to  make  my  flight.  Here  two  other  In- 
dians came  running  to  us,  and  the  one  lifting  up  the  butt  end 
of  his  gun,  to  knock  me  on  the  head,  the  other  with  his  hand 
put  by  the  blow,  and  said  I  was  his  friend.    I  was  now  by  my 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


•I 


own  house,  which  the  Indians  burnt  the  last  year,  and  I  was 
about  to  build  up  again  ;  and  there  I  had  some  hopes  to  escape 
from  them.  There  was  a  horse  just  by,  which  they  bid  me  take. 
I  did  so,  but  made  no  attempt  to  escape  thereby,  because  the 
enemy  was  near,  and  the  beast  was  slow  and  dull.  Then  was 
I  in  hopes  they  would  send  me  to  take  my  own  horses,  which 
they  did  ;  but  they  were  so  frightened  that  I  could  not  come 
near  to  them,  and  so  fell  still  into  the  enemy's  hands.  They 
now  took  and  bound  me  and  led  me  away,  and  soon  was  I 
brought  into  the  company  of  other  captives,  who  were  that  day 
brought  away  from  Hatneld,  who  were  about  a  mi,.;  off;  and 
here  methought  was  matter  of  joy  and  sorrow  both :  joy  to 
see  company,  and  sorrow  for  our  condition.  Then  were  we 
pinioned  and  led  away  in  the  night  over  the  mountains  in  dar^ 
and  hideous  ways,  about  four  miles  further,  before  we  took  up 
our  place  for  rest,  which  was  in  a  dismal  place  of  wood,  on 
the  east  side  of  that  mountain.  We  were  kept  bound  all  thnt 
night.  The  Indians  kept  waking,  and  we  had  little  mind  .o 
sleep  in  this  night's  travel.  The  Indians  dispersed,  and  as  th  y 
went  made  strange  noises,  as  of  wolves  and  owls,  and  other 
wild  beasts,  to  the  end  that  they  might  not  lose  one  another, 
and  if  followed  they  might  not  be  discovered  by  the  English. 

About  the  break  of  day.  we  marched  again,  and  got  over  that 
great  river  at  Pecomptuck  [Deerfield]  river  mouth,  and  theie 
rested  about  t '  '  lours.  Here  the  Indians  marked  out  upon 
trees  the  n^-nm^r  of  their  captives  and  slain,  as  their  manner 
is.  Now  was  I  again  in  great  danger,  a  quarrel  having  arose 
about  me,  whose  captive  I  was ;  for  three  took  me.  I  thought 
I  must  be  killed  to  end  the  controversy,  so  when  they  put  it  to 
me,  whose  I  was,  I  said  three  Indians  took  me  ;  S;.  <hr?y  agreed 
to  have  all  a  share  in  me.  I  had  now  three  ma::  ;is,  and  he 
was  my  chief  master  who  laid  hands  on  me  first ;  and  thus 
was  I  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  worst  of  all  the  company,  as 
AsHPELON,  the  Indian  captain,  told  me ;  which  captain  was  all 
along  very  kind  to  me,  and  a  great  comfjn  to  the  English. 
In  this  place  they  gave  us  some  victuals,  which  they  had  brought 
from  the  English.  This  morning  also  they  sent  ten  men  forth 
to  the  town  [of  Deerfield]  to  bring  away  what  they  could  find. 
Some  provision,  some  corn  out  of  the  meadow,  they  brought  to 
us  on  horses,  which  they  had  there  taken. 

From  hence  we  went  up  about  the  falls,  where  we  crossed 
that  river  again ;  and  whilst  I  was  going,  I  fell  right  down  lame 
of  my  old  wounds,  which  I  had  in  the  war,  and  whilst  I  was 
thinking  I  should  therefore- be  killed  by  the  Indians,  and  what 
death  I  should  die,  my  pain  was  suddenly  gone,  and  I  was 
much  encouraged  again.  We  had  about  eleven  horses  ia  that 
6 


62 


STOCKWELL'S    CAPTIVITY. 


company,  which  the  Indians  used  to  convey  burthens,  and  lo 
carry  women.  It  was  afternoon  when  we  now  crossed  that 
river.  We  travelled  up  it  till  night,  and  then  took  up  our 
lodging  in  a  dismal  place,  and  were  staked  down,  and  spread 
out  on  our  backs ;  and  so  we  lay  all  night,  yea,  so  we  lay 
many  nights.  They  told  me  their  law  was  that  we  should  lie 
so  nme  nights,  and  by  that  time  it  was  thought  we  should  be 
out  of  our  knowledge.  The  manner  of  staking  down  was 
thus:  our  arms  and  legs,  stretched  out,  were  staked  fast  down, 
and  a  cord  about  our  necks,  so  that  we  could  stir  noways. 
The  first  night  of  staking  down,  being  much  tired,  I  slept  as 
comfortable  as  ever.  The  next  day  we  went  up  the  river,  and 
crossed  it,  and  at  night  lay  in  Squakheag  [Northfield]  meadows. 
Ouj:  provision  was  soon  spent,  and  while  we  lay  in  those  mea- 
dows the  Indians  went  a  hunting,  and  the  English  army  came 
out  after  us.  Then  the  Indians  moved  again,  dividing  them- 
selves and  the  captives  into  many  companies,  that  the  English 
.might  not  follow  their  tracks.  At  night,  having  crossed  the 
river,  we  met  again  at  the  place  appointed.  The  next  day  we 
crossed  it  again  on  Squakheag  side,  and  there  we  took  up  our 
quarters  for  a  long  time.  I  suppose  this  might  be  about  thirty 
miles  above  Squakheag ;  and  here  were  the  Indians  quite  out 
of  all  fear  of  the  English,  but  in  great  fear  of  the  Mohawks. 
Here  they  built  a  long  wigwam,  and  had  a  great  dance,  as  they 
call  it,  and  concluded  to  burn  three  of  lis,  and  had  got  bark  lo 
do  it  with,  and,  as  I  understood  afterwards,  I  'vas  one  that  was 
to  brfJiburnt,  sergeant  Plimpton  another,  and  Benjamin  Waite's 
wife  the  third.  Though  I  knew  not  which  was  to  be  burnt, 
yet  I  perceived  some  were  designed  thereunto ;  so  much  I  un- 
derstood of  their  language.  That  night  I  could  not  sleep  for 
fear  of  next  day's  work ;  the  Indians,  being  weary  with  the 
dance,  lay  down  to  sleep,  and  slept  soundly.  The  English 
were  all  loose ;  then  I  went  out  and  brought  in  wood,  and 
mended  the  fire,  and  made  a  noise  on  purpose,  but  none  awak- 
ed. I  thought  if  any  of  the  English  would  awake,  we  might 
kill  them  all  sleeping.  I  removed  out  of  the  way  all  the  guns 
and  hatchets,  but  my  heart  failing  me,  I  put  all  things  where 
they  were  again.  The  next  day,  when  we  were  to  be  burnt, 
our  master  and  some  others  spoke  for  us,  and  the  evil  was  pre- 
vented in  this  place.  Hereabouts  we  lay  three  weeks  together. 
Here  I  had  a  shirt  brought  to  me  to  make,  and  one  Indian  said 
it  should  be  made  this  way,  a  second  another  way,  a  third  his 
way.  I  told  them  I  would  make  it  that  way  my  chief  master 
said ;  whereupon  one  Indian  struck  me  on  the  face  with  his 
fist.  I  suddenly  rose  up  in  anger,  ready  to  strike  again  ;  upon 
this  happened  a  great  hubbub,  and  the  Indians  and  English 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


63 


lis  pre- 

rether. 

In  said 

Ird  his 

mster 

Ith  his 

upon 

iglish 


came  about  me.  I  was  fain  to  humble  myself  to  my  master, 
80  that  matter  was  put  up.  Before  I  came  to  this  place,  my 
three  masters  were  gone  a  hunting;  I  was  left  with  another 
Indian,  all  the  company  being  upon  a  march ;  I  was  left  with 
this  Indian,  who  fell  sick,  so  that  I  was  fain  to  carry  his  gun 
and  hatchet,  and  had  opportunity,  and  had  thought  to  have 
dispatched  him  and  run  away ;  but  did  not,  for  that  the  English 
captives  had  promised  the  contrary  to  one  another  ;  because,  if 
one  should  run  away,  that  would  provoke  the  Indians,  and 
endanger  the  rest  that  could  not  run  away. 

Whilst  we  were  here,  Benjamin  Stebbins,  going  with  some 
Indians  to  Wachuset  Hills,  made  his  escape  from  them,  and 
when  the  news  of  his  escape  came  we  v/ere  all  presently  called 
in  and  bound ;  one  of  the  Indians,  a  captain  among  them, 
and  always  our  great  friend,  met  me  coming  in,  and  told  me 
Stebbins  was  run  away ;  and  the  Indians  spake  of  burning 
us ;  some,  of  only  burning  and  biting  off  our  fingers,  by  and 
by.  He  said  there  would  be  a  court,  and  all  would  speak  their 
minds,  but  he  would  speak  last,  and  would  say,  that  the  Indian 
who  let  Stebbins  run  away  was  only  in  fault,  and  so  no  hurt 
should  be  done  us,  and  added,  "  fear  not ;"  so  it  proved  accor- 
dingly. Whilst  we  lingered  hereabout,  provision  grew  scarce ; 
one  bear's  foot  must  serve  five  of  us  a  whole  day.  We  began 
to  eat  horge-flesh,  and  eat  up  seven  in  all ;  three  were  left  alive, 
and  not  ktlled.  After  we  had  been  here,  some  of  the  Indians 
had  been  down,  and  fallen  upon  Hadley,  and  were  taken  by 
the  English,  agreed  with  and  let  go  again.  They  were  to  meet 
the  English  upon  such  a  plain,  there  to  make  further  terms. 
AsHPALON  was  much  for  it,  but  Wachuset  sachems,  when  they 
came,  were  much  against  it,  and  were  for  this  :  that  we  should 
meet  the  English,  indeed,  but  there  fall  upon  them  and  fight 
them,  and  take  them.  Then  Ashpelon  spake  to  us  English, 
not  to  speak  a  word  more  to  further  that  matter,  for  mischief 
would  come  of  it.  When  those  Indians  came  from  Wachuset 
there  came  with  them  squaws  and  children,  about  four-score, 
who  reported  that  the  English  had  taken  Uncas,  and  all  his 
men,  and  sent  them  beyond  seas  They  were  much  enraged 
at  this,  and  asked  us  if  it  were  true ;  we  said  no.  Then  was 
AsHPALON  angry,  and  said  he  would  no  more  believe  English- 
men. They  examined  us  every  one  apart,  and  then  they  dealt 
worse  with  us  for  a  season  than  before.  Still  provision  was 
scarce.  We  came  at  length  to  a  place  called  Squaw-Maug  river ; 
there  we  hoped  for  salmon  ;  but  we  came  too  late.  This  place 
I  account  to  be  above  t\^o  hundred  miles  above  Deerfield.  -We 
now  parted  into  two  companies ;  some  went  one  way,  and  somo 
went  another  way ;  and  we  went  over  a  mighty  mountain,  it 


# 


r 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


^^■:. 


I 


1 


'  . 


ti 


taking  us  eight  days  to  go  over  it,  and  travelled  very  hard  too, 
having  every  day  either  snow  or  rain.  We  noted  that  on  this 
mountain  all  the  water  run  northward.  Here  also  we  wanted 
provision  ;  but  at  length  we  met  again  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mountain,  viz.  on  the  north  side,  at  a  river  that  runs  into  the 
lake ;  and  we  were  then  half  a  day's  journey  off  the  lake. 

W©  staid  here  a  great  while,  to  make  canoes  to  go  over  the 
lake.  Here  I  was  frozen,  and  again  we  were  like  to  starve. 
All  the  Indians  went  a  hunting,  but  could  get  nothing :  divers 
days  they  powwowed,  and  yet  got  nothing;  then  they  desired 
the  English  to  pray,  and  confessed  they  could  do  nothing ;  they 
would  have  us  pray,  and  see  what  the  Englishman's  God  could 
do.  I  prayed,  so  did  sergeant  Plimpton,  in  another  place. 
The  Indians  reverently  attended,  morning  and  night.  Next 
day  they  got  bears  ;  then  they  would  needs  have  us  desire  a 
blessing,  and  return  thanks  at  meals ;  after  a  while  they  grew 
weary  of  it,  and  the  sachem  did  forbid  us.  When  I  was  fro- 
zen, they  were  very  cruel  towards  me,  because  I  could  not  do 
as  at  otner  times.  When  we  came  to  the  lake  we  were  again 
^'-  sadly  put  to  it  for  provision.  We  were  fain  to  eat  touchwood 
fried  in  bear's  grease.  At  last  we  found  a  company  of  raccoons, 
and  then  we  made  a  feast ;  and  the  manner  was  that  we  must 
«at  all.  I  perceived  there  would  be  too  much  for  one  time,  so 
one  Indian  who  sat  next  to  me  bid  me  slip  away  some  to  him 
under  his  coat,  and  he  would  hide  it  for  me  till  another  time. 
This  Indian,  as  soon  as  he  had  got  my  meat,  stood  up  and 
made  a  speech  to  the  rest,  and  discovered  me ;  so  that  the  In- 
dians were  very  angry  and  cut  me  another  piece,  and  gave  me 
raccoon  grease  to  drink,  which  made  me  sick  and  vomit.  I 
told  them  I  had  enough ;  so  ever  after  that  they  would  give 
me  none,  but  still  tell  me  I  had  raccoon  enough.  So  I  suffer- 
ed much,  and  being  frozen,  was  full  of  pain,  and  could  sleep 
but  a  little,  yet  must  do  my  work.  When  they  went  upon  the 
lake,  and  as  they  rame  to  it,  they  lit  of  a  moose  and  killed  it, 
and  staid  there  till  they  had  eaten  it  all  up. 

After  entering  upon  the  lake,  there  arose  a  great  storm,  and 
we  thought  we  should  all  be  cast  away,  but  at  last  we  got  to 
an  island,  and  there  they  went  to  powwowing.  The  powwow 
said  that  Benjamin  Waite  and  another  man  was  coming,  and 
that  storm  was  raised  to  cast  them  away.  This  afterward  ap- 
peared to  be  true,  though  then  I  believed  them  not.  Upon  this 
island  we  lay  still  several  days,  and  then  set  out  again,  but  a 
storm  took  us,  so  that  we  lay  to  and  fro,  upon  certain  islands, 
about  three  weeks.  We  had  no  provision  but  raccoons,  so  that 
the  Indians  themselves  thought  they  should  be  starved.  They 
gave  me  nothing,  so  that  I  was  sundry  Jays  without  any  pro- 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


vision.  We  went  on  upon  the  lake,  upon  that  isle,  about  a 
day's  journey.  We  had  a  little  sled  upon  which  we  drew  our 
load.  Before  noon,  I  tired,  and  just  then  the  Indians  met  with 
some  Frenchmen ;  then  one  of  the  Indians  that  took  me  came 
to  me  and  called  me  all  manner  of  bad  names,  and  threw  me 
down  upon  my  back.  I  told  him  1  could  not  do  any  more ;  then 
he  said  he  must  kill  me.  I  thought  he  was  about  to  do  it, 
for  he  pulled  out  his  knife  and  cut  out  my  pockets,  and  wrap- 
ped them  about  my  face,  helped  me  up,  and  took  my  sled  and 
went  away,  giving  me  a  bit  of  biscuit,  as  big  as  a  walnut, 
which  he  had  of  the  Frenchman,  and  told  me  he  would  give 
me  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  When  my  sled  was  gone,  I  could  run 
after  him,  but  at  last  I  could  not  run,  but  went  a  foot-pace. 
The  Indians  were  soon  out  of  sight.  I  followed  as  well  as  I 
could,  and  had  many  falls  upon  the  ice. 

At  last,  1  was  so  spent,  I  had  not  strength  enough  to  rise 
again,  but  I  crept  to  a  tree  that  lay  along,  and  got  upon  it, 
and  there  I  lay.  It  wc3  now  night,  and  very  sharp  weather  : 
I  counted  no  other  but  that  I  must  die  here.  Whilst  I  was 
thinking  of  death,  an  Indian  hallooed,  and  I  answered  him ; 
he  came  to  me,  and  called  me  bad  names,  and  told  me  if  I 
could  not  go  he  must  knock  me  on  the  head.  I  told  him  he 
must  then  do  so ;  he  saw  how  I  had  wallowed  in  the  snow, 
but  could  not  rise  ;  then  he  took  his  coat  and  wrapt  me  in  it, 
and  went  back  and  sent  two  Indians  with  a  sled.  One  said 
he  must  knock  me  on  the  head,  the  other  said  no,  they  would 
carry  me  away  and  burn  me.  Then  they  bid  me  stir  my  in- 
step, to  see  if  that  were  frozen ;  I  did  so.  When  they  saw 
that,  they  said  that  was  Wurregen.*  There  was  a  chirur- 
geon  among  the  French,  they  said,  that  could  cure  me ;  then 
they  took  me  upon  a  sled,  and  carried  me  to  the  fire,  and  made 
much  of  me ;  pulled  off  my  wet  and  wrapped  me  in  dry 
clothes,  and  made  me  a  good  bed.  They  had  killed  an  otter, 
and  gave  me  some  of  the  broth  made  of  it,  and  a  bit  of  the 
flesh.  Here  I  slept  till  towards  day,  and  then  was  able  to  get 
up  and  put  on  my  clothes.  One  of  the  Indians  awaked,  and 
seeing  me  walk,  shouted,  as  rejoicing  at  it.  As  soon  as  it  was 
light,  I  ari  Samuel  Russell  went  before  on  the  ice,  upon  a  river. 
They  jsaid  I  must  go  where  I  could  on  foot,  else  I  should 
freeze.  Samuel  Russell  slipt  into  the  river  with  one  foot ;  the 
Indians  called  him  back,  and  dried  his  stockings,  and  then  sent 
us  away,  and  an  Indian  with  us  to  pilot  us.  We  went  four  or 
five  miles  before  they  overtook  us.  I  was  then  pretty  well 
spent.     Samuel  Russell  was,  he  said,  faint,  and  wondered  howl 

*  See  Book  of  the  Indians,  B.  ii.  85. 
6* 


v0' 


% 


«iS 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


could  live,  for  he  had,  he  said,  ten  meals  to  my  one.  Then 
I  was  laid  on  the  sled,  and  they  ran  away  with  me  on  the  ice ; 
the  rest  and  Samuel  Russell  came  softly  after.  Samuel  Russell 
I  never  saw  more,  nor  know  I  what  became  of  him.  They 
got  but  half  way,  and  v/e  got  through  to  Shamblee  about  mid- 
night. Six  miles  off  Snamblee,  (a  French  town,)  the  river  was 
open,  and  when  I  cam^  fo  travel  in  that  part  of  the  ice,  I  soon 
tired  ;  and  two  Inditr^  ^  lan  away  to  town,  and  one  only  was 
left ;  he  would  carry  me  a  few  rods,  and  then  I  would  go 
as  many,  and  then  a  trade  we  drove,  and  so  were  long  in 
going  the  six  miles.  This  Indian  was  now  kind,  and  told  me 
that  if  he  did  not  carry  me  I  would  die,  and  so  I  should  have 
done,  sure  enough ;  and  he  said  I  must  tell  the  English  how 
he  helped  me.  When  we  came  to  the  first  house,  there  was 
no  inhabitant.  The  Indian  was  also  spent,  and  both  were  dis- 
couraged ;  he  said  we  must  now  die  together.  At  last  he  left 
me  alone,  and  got  to  another  house,  and  thence  came  some 
Ftench  and  Indians,  and  brought  me  in.  The  French  were 
kind,  and  put  my  hands  and  feet  in  cold  water,  and  gave  me 
a  dram  of  brandy,  and  a  little  hasty  pudding  and  milk ;  when 
I  tasted  victuals  I  was  hungry,  and  could  not  have  forborne  it, 
but  I  could  not  get  it.  Now  and  then  they  would  give  me  a 
little,  as  they  thought  best  for  me.  I  laid  by  the  fire  with  the 
Indian  that  night,  but  could  not  sleep  for  pain.  Next  morn- 
ing ♦he  Indians  and  French  fell  out  about  me,  because  the 
French,  as  the  Indians  said,  loved  the  English  better  than  the 
Indians.  The  French  presently  turned  the  Indians  out  of 
doors,  and  kept  me. 

They  were  very  kind  and  careful,  and  gave  me  a  little 
something  now  and  then.  While  I  was  here  all  the  men  in 
that  town  came  to  see  me.  At  this  house  I  was  three  or  four 
days,  and  then  invited  to  another,  and  after  that  to  another. 
In  this  place  I  was  about  thirteen  days,  and  received  much 
civility  from  a  young  man,  a  bachelor,  who  invited  me  to  his 
house,  with  whom  I  was  for  the  most  part  of  the  time.  He 
was  so  kind  as  to  lodge  me  in  the  bed  with  himself,  gave  me  a 
shirt,  and  would  have  bought  me,  but  could  not,  as  the  Indians 
asked  one  hundred  pounds  for  me.  We  were  then  to  go  to  a 
place  called  Sorel,  and  that  young  man  would  go  with  me,  be- 
cause the  Indians  should  not  hurt  me.  This  man  carried  me 
on  the  ice  one  day's  journey,  for  I  could  not  now  go  at  all,  and 
there  was  so  much  water  on  the  ice  we  could  go  no  further. 
So  the  Frenchman  left  me,  and  provision  for  me.  Here  we 
staid  two  nig'hts,  and  then  travelled  again,  for  now  the  ice  was 
strong,  and  in  two  days  more  we  came  to  Sorel.  When  we 
got  (to  the  first  house,  it  was  late  in  the  iiight ;  and  here  again 


STOCKWELL'S  CAPTIVITY. 


6T 


the  people  were  kind.  Next  day,  being  in  much  pain,  I  asked 
the  Indians  to  carry  me  to  the  chirurgeons,  as  they  had  promised, 
at  which  they  were  wroth,  and  one  of  them  took  up  his  gun 
to  knock  me,  but  the  Frenchman  would  not  suiTer  it,  but  set 
upon  him  and  kicked  him  out  of  doors.  Then  we  went  away 
from  thence,  to  a  place  two  or  three  miles  off,  where  the 
Indians  had  wigwams.  When  I  came  to  these  wigwams  some 
of  the  Indians  knew  me,  and  seemed  to  pity  me. 

While  I  was  here,  which  was  three  or  four  days,  the  French 
came  to  see  me ;  and  it  being  Christmas  time,  they  brought 
cakes  and  other  provisions  with  them  and  gave  to  me,  so  that 
I  had  no  want.  The  Indians  tried  to  cure  me,  but  could  not. 
Then  I  asked  for  the  chirurgeon,  at  which  one  of  the  Indians 
in  anger  struck  me  on  the  face  with  his  fist.  A  Frenchman 
being  by,  spoke  to  him,  but  I  knew  not  what  he  said,  and  then 
went  his  way.  By  and  by  came  the  captain  of  the  place  into 
the  wigwam,  with  about  twelve  armed  men,  and  asked  where 
the  Indiar,  ,va&  that  struck  the  Englishman.  They  took  him 
and  told  him  he  should  go  to  the  bilboes,  and  then  be  hanged. 
The  Indians  were  much  terrified  at  this,  as  appeared  by  their 
countenances  and  trembling.  I  would  have  gone  too,  but  the 
Frenchman  bid  me  not  fear  ;  that  the  Indians  durst  not  hurt  me. 
When  that  Indian  was  gone,  I  had  two  masters  still.  I  asked 
them  to  carry  me  to  that  captain,  that  I  might  speak  for  the 
Indian.  They  answered,  •'  You  are  a  fool.  Do  you  think  the 
French  are  like  the  English,  to  say  one  thing  and  do  another? 
They  are  men  of  their  words."  I  prevailed  with  them,  how- 
to  help  me  thither,  and  I  spoke  to  the  captain  by  an 
InfeTptMet,  and  told  him  I  desired  him  to  set  the  Indian  free, 
and  told  hirif-wliat  he  had  done  for  me.  He  told  me  he  was  a 
rogue,  and  shoulab«>4iaiiged.  Then  I  spoke  more  privately, 
alleging  this  reason,  tfettv^ecause  all  the  English  captives 
were  not  come  in,  if  he  were  hanged,  it  might  fare  the  worse 
with  them.  The  captain  said  "  that  was  to  be  considered." 
Then  he  set  him  at  liberty  upon  this  condition,  that  he  should 
never  strike  me  more,  and  every  day  bring  me  to  his  house  to 
eat  victuals.  I  perceived  that  the  common  people  did  not  like 
what  the  Indians  had  done  and  did  to  the  English.  When 
the  Indian  was  set  free,  he  came  to  me,  and  took  me  about  the 
middle,  and  said  I  was  his  brother;  that  I  had  saved  his  life 
once,  and  he  had  saved  mine  thrice.  Then  he  called  for 
brandy  and  made  me  drink,  and  had  me  away  to  the  wigwams 
again.  When  I  came  there,  the  Indians  came  to  me  one  by 
one,  to  shake  hands  with  me,  saying  Wurregen  Netop,*  and 


■Wi 


*  Friend,  it  is  well. — Ed. 


:!J.!  -f 


68 


SARAH  GERISH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


were  very  kind,  thinking  no  other  but  that  I  had  saved  the 
Indian's  life. 

The  next  day  he  carried  me  to  that  captain's  house,  and 
set  me  down.*  They  gave  me  my  victuals  aiui  wiio,  and 
being  left  there  a  while  by  the  Indians,  I  showed  ihe  .aptain 
my  fingers,  which  when  be  and  his  wife  saw  they  ran  nv;ay 
from  the  sight,  and  bid  m«  lap  it  up  again,  and  scit  (ox  tha 
chirurgeon  ;  who,  when  lie  came,  said  he  could  cur.  me,  and 
took  it  in  hand,  and  dres&od  it.  The  TndiariS  towards  night 
came  for  me  ;  I  told  them  1  could  not  go  with  them.  They 
were  displeased,  called  nuj  logue,  and  went  away.  Tho.t 
wight  I  was  full  of  pain ;  the  French  feared  diat  1  would  die  ; 
five  men  did  watch  with  me,  aiid  strove  to  keen  me  cheerh 
iht  T  was  sometimes  ready  to  faint.  Oftentimes  ihey  gave  me 
a  little  br  iruly.  The  next  day  the  chirurgeon  came  again, 
and  dresse(i  ice ;  and  so  he  did  all  the  while  I  was  among  the 
French.     I  came  in  at  Chiistmas,  and  went  thence  May  2d. 

Being  thus  in  the  captain's  house,  I  was  kept  there  till 
Benjamin  Waite  jame;  and  now  my  Indian  master,  being  in 
want  of  money,  pawned  me  to  the  captain  for  fourteen  bea- 
vers' skinsj  or  the  worth  of  them,  at  such  a  day  ;  if  he  did  not 
pay  he  must  lose  his  pawn,  or  else  sell  me  for  twenty-one  bea- 
vers, but  he  could  not  get  beaver,  and  so  I  was  sold.  By  being 
thus  sold,  adds  Dr.  Mather,  he  was  in  Goc's  good  time  set  at 
liberty,  and  returned  to  his  friends  in  New  iSngland  again. 


in 

pull 

awe 


■  s/*^' 


NARRATIVE 


'      OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  AND  SUFFERINGS  OP  MISS  SARAH  GER- 

ISH,   WHO  WAS  TAKEN  AT  THE    SACKING  OF  DOVER,  IN 

•    THE  YEAR  1689,  BY  THE  INDIANS;  AS  COMMUNICATED  TO 

'    THE  REVEREND  DR.  COTTON  MATHER,  BY  THE  REVEREND 

JOHN  PIKE,  MINISTER  OP  DOVER. 


Sarah  Gerish,  daughter  of  Capt.  John  Gerish,  of  Quo- 
checho  or  Cocheco,  was  a  /ery  beautiful  and  ingenious  damsel, 
about  seven  years  of  age,  and  happened  to  be  lodging  at  the 
garrison  of  Major  Waldron,  her  aflfectiona'.e  grandfather,  when 
the  Indians  brought  that  horrible  destDxtion  upon  it,  on  the 

*  His  feet  were  so  badly  frozen  that  he  bud  not  walked  for  a  consiae* 
reble  time.— Ed. 


SARAH  GERISH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


69 


Quo- 
imsel, 
lat  the 

Iwhen 
^n  tho 

snsioe- 


m 
1 


night  of  the  27th  of  June,  1689.  She  was  always  very  fear- 
ful of  the  Indians  ;  but  fear  may  we  think  now  surprised  her, 
when  they  fiercely  bid  her  go  into  a  certain  chamber  and  call 
the  people  out !  She  obeyed,  but  finding  only  a  liitle  child  in 
bed  in  the  room,  she  got  into  the  bad  with  it,  and  hid  herself 
in  the  clothes  as  well  as  she  could.  The  fell  savages  quickly 
pulled  her  out,  and  made  her  dress  for  a  march,  but  led  her 
away  with  no  more  than  one  stocking  upon  her,  on  a  teMrible 
march  through  the  thick  woods,  and  a  thousand  other  miseries, 
till  they  came  to  the  Norway  Planes.*  From  thence  they 
made  her  go  to  the  end  of  Winnipisiogee  lake,  thence  east- 
ward, through  horrid  swamps,  where  sometimes  they  were 
obliged  to  scramble  over  huge  trees  fallen  by  storm  or  age,  for 
a  vast  way  together,  and  sometimes  they  must  climb  up  long, 
steep,  tiresome,  and  almost  inaccessible  mountains. 

Her  first  master  was  an  Indian  named  Sebundowit,  a  dull 
sort  of  fellow,  and  not  such  a  devil  as  many  of  them  were, 
but  he  sold  her  to  a  fellow  who  was  a  more  harsh  and  mad 
sort  of  a  dragon.     He  carried  her  away  to  Canada. 

A  long  and  sad  journey  now  ensued,  through  the  midst  of  a 
hideous  desert,  in  the  depth  of  a  dreadful  winter^  and  who 
can  enumerate  the  frights  she  endured  before  the  end  of  her 

i'ourney  ?  Once  her  master  commanded  her  to  loosen  some  of 
ler  upper  garments,  and  stand  against  a  tree  while  he  charged 
his  gun  ;  whereat  the  poor  child  shrieked  out,  "  He  is  going  to 
kill  me  !"  God  knows  what  he  was  going  to  do ;  but  the  villian 
having  charged  his  gun,  he  called  her  from  the  tree  and  for- 
bore doing  her  any  damage.  Upon  another  time  her  master 
ordered  her  to  run  along  the  shore  with  some  Indian  girls, 
while  he  paddled  up  the  river  in  his  canoe.  As  the  girls  were 
passing  a  precipice,  a  tawny  wench  violently  pushed  her  head* 
long  into  the  river,  but  so  it  fell  out  that  in  this  very  place  of 
her  fall  the  bushes  from  the  '^hore  hung  over  the  water,  so 
that  she  was  enabled  to  get  hold  of  them,  an((;^hus  saved  her- 
self. The  Indians  asked  her  how  she  became  so  wet,  but  she 
did  not  dare  to  tell  them,  from  fear  of  the  resentment  of  her 
that  had  so  nearly  deprived  her  of  life  already.  And  here  it 
may  be  remarked,  that  it  is  almost  universally  true,  that  young 
Indians,  both  male  and  female,  are  as  much  to  be  dreaded  by 
captives  as  those  of  maturer  years,  and  in  many  cases  mucn 
more  so  ;  for,  unlike  cultivated  people,  they  have  no  restraints 
upon  their  mischievous  and  savage  propensities,  which  they 
indulge  in  cruelties  surpassing  any  examples  here  related. 
They  often  vie  with  each  other  in  attempting  excessive  acts  of 
torture. 

*  These  planes  are  in  the  present  town  of  Rochester,  M.  U. — Editor. 


.  vB^ 


70 


SARAH-  GERISH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


iT 


'■^{^■■j, 
-^' 


\ 


Once,  being  spent  with  travelling  all  day,  and  lying  down 
wet  and  exhausted  at  night,  she  fell  into  so  profound  a  sleep 
that  in  the  morning  she  waked  not.  Her  barbarous  captors 
decamped  from  the  place  of  their  night's  rest,  leaving  this  little 
captive  girl  asleep  and  covered  with  a  snow  that  in  the  night 
had  fallen ;  but,  at  length  awaking,  what  agonies  may  you 
imagine  she  was  in,  on  finding  herself  left  a  prey  for  bears  and 
wolves,  and  without  any  sustenance,  in  a  howling  wilderness, 
many  scores  of  leagues  from  any  plantation  !  In  this  dismal 
situation,  however,  she  had  fortitude  sufficient  to  attempt-  to 
follow  them.  And  here  again,  the  snow  which  had  been  her 
covering  upon  the  cold  ground,  to  her  great  discomfort,  was 
now  her  only  hope,  for  she  could  just  discern  by  it  the  trace 
of  the  Indians !  How  long  it  was  before  she  overtook  them 
is  not  told  us,  but  she  joined  them  and  continued  her  captivity. 

Now  the  young  Indians  began  to  terrify  her  by  constantly 
reminding  her  that  -she  was  shortly  to  be  roasted  to  death. 
One  evening  much  fuel  was  prepared  between  two  logs,  which 
they  told  her  was  for  her  torture.  A  mighty  fire  being  made, 
her  master  called  her  to  him,  and  told  her  that  she  should 
presently j,ibe  burnt  alive.  At  first  she  stood  amazed;  then 
burst  into  tears ;  and  then  she  hung  about  her  tiger  oi  a  master, 
begging  of  him,  with  an  inexpressible  anguish,  to  save  her 
from  the  fire.  Hereupon  the  monijter  so  far  relented  as  to  tell 
her  "  that  if  she  would  be  a  good  girl  she  should  not  be  burnt." 

At  last  they  arrived  at  Canada,  and  she  was  carried  into 
the  Lord  Intendant's  house,  where  many  persons  of  quality 
took  much  notice  of  her.  It  was  a  week  after  this  that  she 
remained  in  the  Indian's  hands  before  the  price  of  her  ransom 
could  be  agreed  upon.  But  then  the  lady  intendant  sent  her 
to  the  nunnery,  where  she  was  comfortably  provided  for ;  and 
it  waa.the  design,  as  was  said,  for  to  have  brought  her  up  in 
the  Romish  religion,  and  then  to  have  married  her  unto  the 
son  of  the  Lord  Intendant. 

She  was  kindly  used  there  until  Sir  William  Phips,  lying 
before  Quebec,  .diid,  upon  exchange  of  prisoners,  obtain  her  lib- 
erty. After  sixteen  months'  captivity  she  was  restored  unto 
her  friends,  who  had*the  consolation  of  having  this  their  desir- 
able daughter  again  with  them,  returned  as  it  were  from  the 
dead.  But  this  dear  child  was  not  to  cheer  her  parents' path 
for  a  long  period ;  for  on  arriving  at  her  sixteenth  year,  July, 
1697,  death  carried  her  off"  by  a  malignant  fever. 


-.-n  •. 


ELIZABETH  HEARD'S  CAPTIVITY. 


71 


NARRATIVE 


to  tell 
burnt." 
ed  into 
quality 

at  she 
liansom 
lent  her 
ir ;  and 
\r  up  in 

to  the 

[»  lying 
ler  lib- 

unto 

desir- 

jm  the 

5' path 

July, 


OP  THE  REMARKABI.E  ESf  *  VPE  OP  WIDOW  ELIZABETH  HEARD, 
ALSO  TAKEN  AT  THE  DESTRUCTION  OP  MAJOR  WALDRON'S 
GARRISON  IN  DOVER,  AS  COMMUNICATED  TO  DOCTOR  COT- 
TON MATHER,  BY  THE  REV.  JOHN  PIKE,  MINISTER  OP  THE 
PLACE. 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Heard  was  a  widow  of  good  estate,  a  mother 
of  many  children,  and  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Hull,  a  reverend 
minister  formerly  living  at  Pascataqua,  but  at  this  time  lived 
at  Quochecho,  the  Indian  name  of  Dover.  Happening  to  be 
at  Portsmouth  on  the  day  before  Quochecho  was  cut  off,  she 
returned  thither  in  the  night  with  one  daughter  and  three  sons, 
all  masters  of  families.  When  they  came  near  Quochecho 
they  were  astonished  with  a  prodigious  noise  of  Indians,  howl- 
ing, shooting,  shouting,  and  roaring,  according  to  their  manner 
in  making  an  assault. 

Their  distress  for  their  families  carried  them  still  further 
up  the  river,  till  thev  secretly  and  silently  passed  by  some 
numbers  of  the  ragim^  ^  ages.  They  landed  about  an  hun- 
dred rods  from  Maj^r  Waldron's  garrison,  and  running  up 
the  hill,  they  saw  many  lights  in  the  windows  of  the  garrison, 
which  they  concluded  the  English  within  had  set  up  for  the 
direction  of  those  who  might  seek  a  refuge  there.  Coming 
to  the  gatf  they  desired  entrance,  which  not  being  readily 
granted,  they  called  earnestly,  bounced,  knocked,  and  cried 
out  to  those  within  of  their  unkindness,  that  they  would  not 
open  the  gate  to  them  in  this  extremity. 

No  answer  being  yet  made,  they  began  to  doubt  whether  all 
was  weli.  One  of  the  young  men  then  climbing  up  the  wall, 
saw  a  horrible  tawny  in  the  entry,  with  a  gun  in  his  hand.  A 
grievous  consternation  seized  now  upon  them,  and  Mrs.  Heard, 
sitting  down  without  the  gate,  through  despair  and  faintnesp, 
was  unable  to  stir  any  further;  but  had  strength  only  to 
charge  her  children  to  shift  for  themselves,  which  she  did  in 
broken  accents  ;  adding  also  that  she  must  unavoidably  there 
end  her  days.  m. 

Her  children,  finding  it  impossible  to  carry  her  with  them, 
with  heavy  hearts  forsook  her.  Immediately  after,  however, 
she  beginning  to  recover  from  her  fright,  was  able  to  fly,  and 
hide  herself  in  a  bunch  of  barberry  bushes,  in  the  garden ;  and 


.-.*'" 


"*k.  .^.. 


■■#v 


I  f*-ilnr.ir»tf-  liiinv.  niervs 


79 


ELIZABETH  HEARD'S  CAPTIVITY. 


then  hastening  from  thence,  hecauso  the  daylight  advanced, 
she  sheltered  herself,  though  seen  by  two  of  the  Indians,  in  a 
thicket  of  other  bushes,  about  thirty  rods  from  the  house. 
She  had  not  been  long  here  before  an  Indian  came  towards 
her,  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand.  The  fellow  came  up  to  her 
and  stared  her  in  the  face,  but  said  nothing  to  her,  nor  she  to 
him.  He  went  a  little  way  back,  and  came  again,  and  stared 
upon  her  as  before,  but  said  nothing ;  whereupon  she  abked 
him  what  he  would  have.  He  still  said  nothing,  but  went 
away  to  the  house,  whooping,  and  returned  unto  her  no  more. 
Being  thus  unaccountably  preserved,  she  made  several 
essays  to  pass  the  river,  but  found  herself  unable  to  do  it,  and 
finding  all  places  on  that  side  of  the  river  filled  with  blood 
and  fire,  and  hideous  outcries,  she  thereupon  returned  to  her 
old  bush,  and  there  poured  out  her  ardent  prayers  to  God  for 

^  help  in  this  distress. 
*>.      She  continued  in  this  bush  until  the  garrison  was  burnt, 

^  and  the  enemy  had  gone,  and  then  she  stole  along  by  the  river 
side,  until  she  came  to  a  boom,  on  which  she  passed  over. 
Many  sad  effects  of  cruelty  she  saw  left  by  the  Indians  in  her 
way.  She  soon  after  safely  arrived  at  Captain  Gerish's  gar- 
rison, where  she  found  a  refuge  from  the  storm.  Here  she 
also  had  the  satisfaction  to  understand  that  her  own  garrison, 
though  one  of  the  first  that  was  assaulted,  had  been  bravely 
defended,  and  successfully  maintained  against  the  adversary. 

This  gentlewoman's  garrison  was  on  the  most  extreme  fron- 
tier of  the  province,  and  more  obnoxious  than  any  other,  and 
therefore  more  incapable  of  being  relieved.  Nevertheless,  by 
her  presence  and  courage,  it  held  out  all  the  war,  even  for  ten 
years  together  ;  and  the  persons  in  it  have  enjoyed  very  emi- 
nent preservations.  It  would  have  been  deserted,  if  she  had 
accepted  offers  that  were  made  her  by  her  friends,  to  abandon 
it,  and  retire  to  Portsmouth  among  them,  which  would  have 
been  a  damage  to  the  town  and  land;  but  by  her  encourage- 
ment this  post  was  thus  kept  up,  and  she  is  yet  [1702]  living 
in  much  esteem  among  her  neighbors. 

Note  1. — Mrs.  Heard  was  the  widow  of  a  Mr.  John  Heard.  She  had 
five  sons,  Benjamin,  John,  Joseph,  Samuel  and  Tristram,  and  an  equal 
number  of  daughters.  The  last-named  son  was  waylaid  and  killed  by 
the  Indians  in  the  year  1723. — MS.  Chronicles  of  the  Indians. 

Note  2. — It  will  doubtless  seem  surprising  to  the  reader  that  Mrs.  Heard 
should  be  suffered  to  escape  captivity,  when  she  was  discovered  by  a 
grim  warrior,  who,  without  doubt,  was  seeking  for  some  white  inhab- 
itant, on  whom  to  wrt  vk  his  vengeance.  The  facts  seem  to  be  these  : 
Thirteen  years  before,  namely,  in  1676,  when  the  four  hundred  Indians 
were  surprised  in  Dover,  (in  a  manner  not  at  all  doubtful  as  it  respects 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  GYLES. 


73 


the  character  of  their  captors,)  this  same  Mrs.  Heard  secreted  a  yonng 
Indian  in  her  house,  by  which  means  he  escaped  that  calamitous  day. 
The  reader  of  Indian  history  will  not,  now,  I  presume,  harbor  surprise 
at  the  conduct  of  the,  warrior.  For  the  particulars  of  the  event  con- 
nected with  this  narrative,  see  The  Book  of  the  Indians,  Book  iii. 
Chap,  viii — Ed. 


MEMOIRS 


OP  ODD  ADVENTURES,  STRANGE  DELIVERANCES,  ETC.,  IN  THE 
CAPTIVITY  OP  JOHN  GYLES,  ESQ.,  COMMANDER  OF  THE 
GARRISON  ON  ST.  GEORGE  RIVER,  IN  THE  DISTRICT  OP 
MAINE.  WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF.  ORIGINALLY  PUBLISHED 
AT  BOSTON,  1736. 

Introduction. — These  private  memoirs  were  collected  from 
my  minutes,  at  the  earnest  request  of  my  second  consort,  for 
the  use  of  our  family,  that  we  might  have  a  memento  ever 
ready  at  hand,  to  excite  in  ourselves  gratitude  and  thankfulness 
to  God ;  and  in  our  offspring  a  due  sense  of  their  dependence 
on  the  Sovereign  of  the  universe,  from  the  precariousness  and 
vicissitudes  of  all  sublunary  enjoyments.  In  this  state,  and  for 
this  end,  they  have  laid  by  me  for  some  years.  They  at  length 
falling  into  the  hands  of  some,  for  whose  judgment  I  had  a 
value,  I  was  pressed  for  a  copy  for  the  public.  Others,  desir- 
ing of  me  to  extract  particulars  from  them,  which  the  multi- 
plicity and  urgency  of  my  affairs  would  not  admit,  I  have  now 
determined  to  suffer  their  publication.  I  have  not  made  scarce 
any  addition  to  this  manual,  except  in  the  chapter  of  creatureSt 
which  I  was  urged  to  make  much  larger.  I  might  have  great- 
ly enlarged  it,  but  I  feared  it  would  grow  beyond  its  proportion. 
I  have  been  likewise  advised  to  give  a  particular  account  of 
my  father,  which  I  am  not  very  fond  of,  having  no  dependence 
on  the  virtues  or  honors  of  my  ancestors  to  recommend  me  to 
the  favor  of  God  or  men  ;  nevertheless,  because  some  think  it 
is  a  respect  due  to  the  memory  of  my  parents,  whose  name  I 
was  obliged  to  mention  in  the  following  story,  and  a  satisfaction 
which  their  posterity  might  justly  expect  from  me,  I  shall  give 
some  account  of  him,  though  as  brief  as  possible. 


The  flourishing  state  of  New  England,  before  the  unhappy 

eastern  wars,  drew  my  father  hither,  whose  first  settlement  was 

on  Kennebeck  river,  at  a  place  called  Merrymeeting  Bay,  where 

he  dwelt  for  some  years ;  until,  on  the  death  of  my  grand  pa- 

7 


.1 


Vt  CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  GYLES. 

rents,  he,  with  his  family,  returned  to  England,  to  settle  hh 
affairs.  This  done,  he  cnme  over  with  the  design  to  have  re- 
turned to  his  farm ;  but  on  his  arrival  at  Boston,  the  eastern 
Indians  had  begun  their  hostilities.  He  tiierefore  begun  a 
settlement  on  Long  Island.  The  air  of  that  place  not  so  well 
agreeing  with  his  constitution,  and  the  Indians  having  become 
peaceable,  he  again  proposed  to  resettle  his  lands  in  Merrymeet- 
ing  Bay ;  but  finding  that  place  deserted,  and  that  plantations 
were  going  on  at  Pemmaquid,  he  purchased  several  tracts  of 
land  of  the  inhabitants  there.  Upon  his  highness  the  duke  of 
York  resuming  a  claim  to  those  parts,  my  father  took  out  patents 
under  that  claim ;  and  when  Pemmaquid  was  set  off  by  the 
name  of  the  county  of  Cornwall,  in  the  province  of  New  York, 
he  was  commissioned  chief  justice  of  the  same  by  Gov.  Duncan 
[Dongan.]  *  He  was  a  strict  Sabbatarian,  and  met  with  con- 
siderable difficulty  in  the  discharge  of  his  office,  from  the 
immoralities  of  a  people  who  had  long  lived  lawless.  He  laid 
out  no  inconsiderable  income,  which  he  had  annually  from 
England,  on  the  place,  and  at  last  lost  his  life  there,  as  will 
hereafter  be  related. 

I  am  not  insensible  of  the  truth  of  an  assertion  of  Sir  Roger 
L'Estrange,  that  "  Books  and  dishes  have  this  common  fate  : 
no  one  of  either  ever  pleased  all  tastes."  And  I  am  fully  of 
his  opinion  in  this:," It  is  as  little  to  be  wished  for  as  ex- 
pected; for  a  universal  applause  is,  at  least,  two  thirds  of  a 
scandal."  To  conclude  with  Sir  Roger,  "  Though  I  made  this 
composition  principally  for  my  family,  yet,  if  any  man  has  a 
mind  to  take  part  with  me,  he  has  free  leave,  and  is  welcome  ;" 
but  let  him  carry  this  consideration  along  with  him,  "  that  he 
is  a  very  unmannerly  guest  who  forces  himself  upon  another 
man's  table,  and  then  quarrels  with  his  dinner." 

Chapter  I. — Containing  the  occurrences  of  the  first  year. 
On  the  second  day  of  August,  1689,  ir  the  morning,  my  hon- 
ored father,  Thomas  Gyles,  Esq.,  weni  with  some  laborers,  my 
two  elder  brothers  and  myself,  to  one  of  his  farms,  which  laid 
upon  the  river  about  three  miles  above  fort  Charles,t  adjoining 
Pemmaquid  falls,  there  to  gather  in  his  English  harvest,  and 
we  labored  securely  till  noon.     After  we  had  dined,  our  people 

•  He  had  been  appointed  governor  of  New  York  30  Sept.  1682. — Ed. 

j  Fort  Charles  stood  on  the  spot  where  fort  Frederick  was,  not  long 
since,  founded  by  Colonel  Dunbar.  The  township  adjoining  thereto  was 
called  Jamestown,  in  honor  to  the  duke  of  York.  In  this  town,  within  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  fort,  was  my  father's  dwelling-house,  from  which 
he  went  out  that  unhappy  morning.  J  


went 
othei 
est  0 


m: 


< 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JOHN  GYLES. 


r« 


went  to  their  labor,  some  in  one  field  to  their  English  hay,  the 
others  to  another  field  of  English  corn.     My  father,  the  young- 
est of  my  two  brothers,  and  myself,  tarried  near  the  farm-house 
in  which  we  had  dined  till  about  one  of  the  clock;  at  which 
time  we  heard  the  report  of  several  great  guns  at  the  fort. 
Upon  which  my  father  said  he  hoped  it  was  a  signal  of  good 
news,  and  that  the  great  council  had  sent  back  the  soldiers,  to 
cover  the  inhabitants  ;  (for  on  report  of  the  revolution  they  had 
deserted.)     But  to  our  great  surprise,  about  thirty  or  forty  In- 
dians,'*^ at  that  moment,  discharged  a  volley  of  shot  at  us,  from 
behind  a  rising  ground,  near  our  barn.     The  yelling  of  the 
Indians.t  the  whistling  of  their  shot,  and  the  voice  of  my  father, 
whom  I  \  eard  cry  out,  *•  What  now !  what  now ! "  so  terrified 
me,  (though  he  seemed  to  be  handling  a  gun,)  that  I  endeavor- 
ed to  make  my  escape.     My  brother  ran  one  way  and  I  another, 
and  looking  over  my  shoulder,  I  saw  a  slout  fellow,  painted, 
pursuing  me  with  a  gun,  and  a  cutlass  glittering  in  his  hand, 
which  I  expected  every  moment  in  my  brains.     I  soon  fell 
down,  and  the  Indian  seized  me  by  the  left  hand.     He  offered 
me  no  abuse,  but  tied  my  arms,  then  lifted  me  up,  and  pointed 
to  the  place  where  the  people  were  at  work  about  the  hay,  and 
led  me  that  way.     As  we  went,  we  crossed  where  my  father 
was,  who  looked  very  pale  and  bloody,  and  walked  very  slowly. 
When  we  came  to  the  place,  I  saw  two  men  shot  dowii  on  the 
flats,  and  one  or  two  more  knocked  on  their  heads  with  hatch- 
ets, crying  out,  <*  O  Lord,"  &c.     There  the  Indians  brought 
two  captives,  one  a  man,  and  my  brother  James,  who,  with  me; 
had  endeavored  to  escape  by  running  from  the  house,  when  we 
were  first  attacked.     This  brother  was  about  fourteen  years  of 
age.     My  oldest  brother,  whose  name  was  Thomas,  wonder- 
fully escaped  by  land  to  the  Barbican,  a  point  of  land  on  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  opposite  the  fort,  where  several  fishing 
vessels  lay.     He  got  on  board  one  of  them  and  sailed  that 
night.  ■'''  x4\: 

After  doing  what  mischief  they  could,  they  sat  down,  and 
made  us  sit  with  them.  After  some  time  we  arose,  and  the 
Indians  pointed  for  us  to  go  eastward.  We  marched  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  then  made  a  halt.  Here  they  brought 
my  father  to  us.  They  made  proposals  to  him,  by  old  Moxus, 
who  told  him  that  those  were  strange  Indians  who  shot  him, 

•  The  whole  company  of  Indians,  according  to  Charlevoix,  was  one 
hundred. — Ed. 

fThe  Indians  have  a  custom  of  uttering  a  most  horrid  howl  when  they 
discharge  guns,  designing  thereby  to  terrify  those  whom  they  fight 
against. 


1 1 


"^v 


%    *% 


76 


CAPTIVITy  OF  JOHN  GYLES. 


and  that  he  was  sorry  for  it.  My  father  repljed  th^t  he  was 
a  dying  man,  and  wanted  no  favor  of  them,  bql,  t^pos^y  with 
his  children.  This  being  granted  him,  he  recoMiUlndea  us  to 
the  protection  and  blessing  of  God  Almighty ;  then  gave  ua 
the  best  advice,  and  took  his  leave  for  this  life,  hoping  in  God 
that  we  should  meet  in  a  better.  He  parted  with  a  cheerful 
voice,  but  looked  very  pale,  by  reason  of  his  great  loss  of  blood; 
which  now  gushed  out  of  his  shoes.  The  Indians  led  him 
aside ! — I  heard  the  blows  of  the  hatchet,  but  neither  shriek 
nor  groan  !  I  afterwards  heard  that  he  had  five  or  seven  shot- 
holes  through  his  waistcoat  or  jacket,  and  that  he  was  covered 
with  some  boughs. 

The  Indians  led  us,  their  captives,  on  the  east  side  of  the 
river,  towards  the  fort,  and  when  we  came  within  a  mile  and 
a  half  of  the  fort  and  town,  and  could  see  the  fort,  we  saw 
firing  and  smoke  on  all  sides.  Here  we  made  a  short  stop, 
and  then  moved  within  or  near  the  distance  of  three  quarters 
of  a  mile  from  the  fort,  into  a  thick  swamp.  There  I  saw  my 
mother  and  my  two  little  sisters,  and  many  other  captives  who 
were  taken  from  the  town.  My  mother  asked  me  about  my 
father.  I  told  her  he  was  killed,  but  Qould  say  no  more  for 
grief.  She  burst  into  tears,  and  the  Indians  moved  me  a  little 
farther  off,  and  seized  me  with  cords  to  a  tree. 

The  Indians  came  to  New  Harbor,  and  sent  spies  several 
days  to  observe  how  and  where  the  people  were  employed, 
&c.,  who  found  the  men  were  generally  at  work  at  noon^  and 
left  abc  U  their  houses  only  women  and  children.  Therefore 
the  Inc  <ins  divided  themselves  into  several  parties,  some  am- 
bushing the  way  between  the  fort  and  the  houses,  as  likewise 
between  them  and  the  distant  fields ;  and  then  alarming  the 
farthest  •  off  first,  they  killed  and  took  the  people,  as  they 
moved  towards  the  town  and  fort,  at  their  pleasure,  and  very 
few  escaped  to  it.  Mr.  Pateshall  was  taken  and  killed,  as  he 
lay  with  his  sloop  near  the  Barbican. 

On  the  first  stir  about  the  fort,  my  youngest  brother  was  at 
play  near  it,  and  running  in,  was  by  God's  goodness  thus  pre- 
served. Captain  Weems,  with  great  courage  and  resolution, 
defended  the  weak  old  fort*=  two  days ;  when,  being  much 
wounded,  and  the  best  of  his  men  killed,  he  beat  for  a  parley, 
which  eventuated  in  these  conditions  : 

1.  That  they,  the  Indians,  should  give  him  Mr.  Pateshall's 
sloop.     2.  That  they  should  not  molest  him  in  carrying  off  the 

*  I  presume  Charlevoix  was  misinformed  about  the  strength  of  this  place. 
He  says,  "  lis  [the  English]  y  avoient  fait  un  fort  bel  etablissement,  de- 
f6ndu  par  un  fort,  qui  n'etoit  d  la  veritd  que  de  pieux,  mais  assez  regulierC' 
ment  construit,  avec  vmgt  canons  month." 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


77 


few  people  that  had  got  into  the  fort,  and  three  captives  that 
they  had,taken.  3.  That  the  English  should  carry  off  in  their 
hands  what  they  could  from  the  fort. 

On  these  conditions  the  fort  was  surrendered,  and  Captain 
Weems  went  off;  and  soon  after,  the  Indians  set  on  fire  the 
fort  iand  houses,  v/hich  made  a  terrible  blast,  and  was  a  melan- 
choly sight  to  us  poor  captives,  who  were  sad  spectators  ! 

After  the  Indians  had  thus  laid  waste  Pemmaquid,  they 
moved  us  to  New  Harbor,  about  two  miles  east  of  Pemmaquid, 
a  cove  much  frequented  by  fishermen.  At  this  place,  there 
were,  before  the  war,  about  twelve  houses.  These  the  inhab- 
itants deserted  as  soon  as  the  rumor  of  v/ar  reached  the  place. 
When  we  turned  our  backs  on  the  town,  my  heart  Avas  ready 
to  break  !  I  saw  my  mother.  She  spoke  to  me,  but  I  could 
not  answer  her.  That  night  we  tarried  at  New  Harbor,  and 
the  next  day  went  in  their  canoes  for  Penobscot.  About 
noon,  the  canoe  in  which  my  mother  was,  and  that  in  which  I 
was,  came  side  by  side ;  whether  accidentally  or  by  my 
mother's  desire  I  cannot  say.  She  asked  me  how  I  did.  1 
think  I  said  "  pretty  well,"  but  my  heart  was  so  full  of  grief  I 
scarcely  knew  whether  audible  to  her.  Then  she  said,  "  O, 
my  child !  how  joyful  and  pleasant  it  would  be,  if  we  were 
going  to  old  England,  to  see  your  uncle  Chalker,  and  other 
friends  there  !  Poor  babe,  we  are  going  into  the  wilderness, 
the  Lord  knows  Avhere  !"     Then  bursting  into  tears,  the  canoes 

{>arted.     That  night  following,  the  Indians  with  their  captives 
odged  on  an  island. 

A  few  days  after,  we  arrived  at  Penobscot  fort,  where  I 
again  saw  my  mother,  my  brother  and  sisters,  and  many  other 
captives.  I  think  we  tarried  here  eight  days.  In  that  time, 
the  Jesuit  of  the  place  had  a  great  mind  to  buy  me.  My 
Indian  master  made  a  visit  to  the  Jesuit,  and  carried  me  with 
him.  And  here  I  will  note,  that  the  Indian  who  takes  a  cap- 
tive is  accounted  his  master,  and  has  a  perfect  right  to  him, 
until  he  gives  or  sells  him  to  another.  I  saw  the  Jesuit  show 
my  master  pieces  of  gold,  and  understood  afterwards  that  he 
was  tendering  them  for  my  ransom.  He  gave  me  a  biscuit, 
which  I  put  into  my  pocket,  and  not  daring  to  eat  it,  buried  it 
under  a  log,  fearing  he  had  put  something  into  it  to  make  me 
love  him.  Being  very  young,  and  having  heard  much  of  the 
Papists  torturing  the  Protestants,  caused  me  to  act  thus  ;  and 
I  hated  the  sight  of  a  Jesuit.*     When  my  mother  heard  the 

*  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  antipathy  should  be  so  plainly 

exhibited  at  this  time,  considering  what  had  been  going  on  in  En^Jand  up 

to  the  latest  dates;  but  that  children  should  have  been  taught,  thac 

Catholics  had  the  power  of  winning  over  heretics  by  any  mysterious  pow- 

7# 


i 


'10 


78 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY. 


.IV 


V 


talk  of  my  being*  sold  to  a  Jesuit,  she  said  to  me,  "  Oh,  my 
dear  child,  if  it  were  God's  will,  I  had  rather  follow  you  to 
your  grave,  or  never  see  you  more  in  this  world,  than  you 
should  be  sold  to  a  Jesuit ;  for  a  Jesuit  Avill  ruin  you,  body  and 
soul  !"=^  It  pleased  God  to  grant  her  request,  for  she  never 
saw  me  more  !  Yet  she  and  my  two  little  sisters  were,  after 
several  years'  captivity,  redeemed,  but  she  died  before  I  returned. 
My  brother  who  was  taken  with  me,  was,  after  several  years' 
captivity,  most  barbarously  tortured  to  death  by  the  Indians. 

My  Indian  master  carried  me  up  Penobscot  river,  to  a  vil- 
lage called  Madawamkee,  which  stands  on  a  point  of  land 
between  the  main  river  and  a  branch  which  heads  to  the 
east  of  it.  At  home  I  had  ever  seen  strangers  treated  with 
the  utmost  civility,  and  being  a  stranger,  I  expected  some  kind 
treatment  here  ;  but  I  soon  found  myself  deceived,  for  I  pres- 
ently saw  a  number  of  squaws,  who  had  got  together  in  a 
circle,  dancing  and  yelling.  An  old  grim-looking  one  took 
me  by  the  hand,  and  leading  me  into  the  ring,  some  seized 
me  by  my  hair,  and  others  by  my  hands  and  feet,  like  so  many 
furies  ;  but  my  master  presently  laying  down  a  pledge,  they 
released  me. 

A  captive  among  the  Indians  is  exposed  to  all  manner  of 
abuses,  and  to  the  extremes!  tortures,  unless  their  master,  or 
some  of  their  master's  relations,  lay  down  a  ransom ;  such  as 
a  bag  of  corn,  a  blanket,  or  the  like,  which  redeems  them  from 
their  cruelty  for  that  dance.  The  next  day  we  went  up  that 
eastern  branch  of  Penobscot  river  many  leagues  ;  carried 
over  land  to  a  large  pond,  and  from  one  pond  to  another,  till, 
in  a  few  days,  we  went  down  a  river,  called  Medocktack, 
which  vents  itself  into  St.  John's  river.  But  before  we  came 
to  the  mouth  of  this  river,  we  passed  over  a  long  carrying 
place,   to   Medocktack   fort,  which  stands  on  a  bank  of  St. 

ders,  or  other  arts,  furnished  them  by  his  satanic  majesty,  is  a  matter,  to 
say  the  least,  of  no  little  admiration. — Ed. 

*  It  may  not  be  improper  to  hear  how  the  Jesuits  themselves  viewed 
these  mntters.  The  settlement  here  was,  according  to  the  French  account, 
in  their  dominions,  and  the  English  settlers  "incommoded  extremely  from 
thence  all  the  Indians  in  the  adjacent  country,  who  were  the  avowed  friends 
of  the  French,  and  caused  the  government  of  Acadia  no  less  inquietude, 
who  feared  with  reason  the  effect  of  their  intrigues  in  detaching  the  Indians 
from  their  alliance.  The  Indians,  who  undertook  to  break  up  the  post 
at  Pemmaquid,  were  Penobscots,  among  whom  a  Jesuit,  named  M.  Thury, 
a  good  laborer  in  the  faith,  had  a  numerous  mission.  The  first  atten- 
tion before  setting  out  of  these  b'-ave  Christians  was  to  secure  aid  of  the 
God  of  battles,  by  confessions  and  the  sacrament ;  and  they  took  care 
that  their  wives  and  children  performed  the  same  rites,  and  raised  their 
pure  hands  to  heaven,  while  their  fathers  and  mothers  went  out  to  battle 
against  the  heretics."    See  Charlevoix. — Ed. 


JOHN  GYLDS'  CAPTIVITY. 


79 


John's  river.  My  master  went  before,  and  left  me  with  an 
old  Indian,  and  two  or  three  squaws.  The  old  man  often  said, 
(which  was  all  the  English  he  could  speak,)  "By  and  by  come 
to  a  g  eat  town  and  fort."  I  now  comforted  myself  in  think- 
ing how  finely  I  should  be  refreshed  when  I  came  to  this  great 
town. 

After  some  miles'  travel  we  came  in  sight  of  a  large  corn- 
field, and  soon  after  of  the  fort,  to  my  great  surprise.  Two 
or  three  squaws  met  us,  took  off  my  pack,  and  led  me  to  a 
large  hut  or  wigwam,  where  thirty  or  forty  Indians  were  dan- 
cing and  yelling  round  five  or  six  poor  captives,  who  had  been 
taken  some  months  before  from  Quochech,  at  the  time  Major 
Waldron  was  so  barbarously  butchered  by  them.  And  before 
proceeding  with  my  narrative  I  will  give  a  short  account  of 
that  action. 

Major  Waldron 's  garrison  was  taken  on  the  night  of  the 
27th  of  June,  1689.*  I  have  heard  the  Indians  say  at  a  feast 
that  as  there  was  a  truce  for  some  days,  they  contrived  to  send 
in  two  squaws  to  take  notice  of  the  numbers,  lodgings  and 
other  circumstances  of  the  people  in  his  garrison,  and  if  they  ■ 
could  obtain  leave  to  lodge  there,  to  open  the  gates  and  whistle. 
(They  said  the  gates  had  no  locks,  but  were  fastened  with 
pins,  and  that  they  kept  no  watch.)  The  squaws  had  a  favor- 
able season  to  prosecute  their  projection,  for  it  was  dull 
weather  when  they  came  to  beg  leave  to  lodge  in  the  garrison. 
They  told  the  major  that  a  great  number  of  Indiarx  were  not 
far  from  thence,  with  a  considerable  quantity  of  b:  /er,  who 
would  be  there  to  trade  with  him  the  next  day.  Some  of  the 
people  were  very  much  against  their  lodging  in  the  garrison, 
but  the  major  said,  "  Let  the  poor  creatures  lodge  by  the  fire." 
The  squaws  went  into  every  apartment,  arj  i  observing  the 
numbers  in  each,  when  all  the  people  were  asleep,  arose  and 
opened  the  gates,  gave  the  signal,  and  the  other  Indians  came 
to  them  ;  and  having  received  an  account  of  the  state  of  tho 
garrison,  they  divided  according  to  the  number  of  people  in 
each  apartment,  and  soon  took  and  killed  them  all.  The 
major  lodged  within  an  inner  room,  and  when  the  Indians 
broke  in  upon  him,  he  cried  out,  "  What  now  !  what  now  I" 
and  jumping  out  of  bed  with  only  his  shirt  on,  seized  his  sword 
and  drove  them  before  him  through  two  or  three  doors ;  but  for 

*  The  date  stands  in  the  old  narrative,  "  in  the  beginning  of  April  on 
the  night  after  a  Sabbath,"  which  being  an  error,  I  have  corrected  it. 
What  time  in  the  night  of  the  27th  the  place  was  attacked,  is  not  mentioned, 
bat  the  accounts  of  it  are  chiefly  dated  the  day  following,  viz.  the  28th, 
•when  the  tragedy  was  finished.  The  squaws  had  taken  up  their  lodging 
there  on  the  night  of  the  27th,  and  if  the  attack  begun  before  midnight, 
which  it  probably  did,  the  date  in  the  text  is  the  true  one. — Ed. 


■'^'r. 


80 


JOHN  GYLES'    CAPTIVITY. 


some  reason,  turning  about  towards  the  apartment  he  had  just 
left,  ai.  Indian  came  up  behind  him,  kncicked  him  on  the  head 
with  h's  hatchet,  which  stunned  him,  and  he  fell.  They  now 
seized  upon  him,  dragged  him  out,  and  setting  him  upon  a 
long  table  in  his  hall,  bid  him  "judge  Indians  again."  Then 
they  cut  and  stabbed  him,  and  he  cried  out,  "  O,  Lord !  O, 
Lord  !"  They  bid  him  order  hii  book  of  accounts  to  be 
broUjrht,  and  to  cross  out  all  the  Indians'  debts,''*'  (he  havir  g 
traded  much  with  them.)  After  they  had  tortured  him  to 
death,  they  burned  the  garrison  and  drew  off.  This  narration 
1  ha"!  fro/n  their  own  mouths,  at  a  general  meeting,  and  have 
rea&^n  to  think  it  true.t     But  to  return  to  my  narrative. 

I  was  whirled  in  among  this  circle  of  Indians,  and  we  pris- 
oners fooiiod  on  each  other  with  a  sorrowful  countenance. 
Presently  ove  of  them  was  seized  by  each  hand  and  foot,  by 
four  Indians,  who,  swinging  him  up,  let  his  back  fall  on  the 
ground  wilb  full  force.  This  they  repeated,  till  they  had 
danced,  as  \l  ey  called  it,  round  the  whole  wigwam,  which  was 
thirty  or  fei  ly  feet  in  length.  But  when  they  torture  a  boy 
"they  take  In  n  up  between  two.  This  is  one  of  their  customs 
of  torturing  raptives.  Another  is  to  take  up  a  ^arson  by  the 
middle,  with  his  head  downwards,  and  jolt  him  round  till  one 
would  think  His  bowels  would  shake  out  of  his  mouth.  Some- 
times they  \  .'ill  take  a  captive  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  and 
stooping  him  forward,  strike  him  on  the  back  and  shoulder, 
till  the  blood  gushes  out  of  his  mouth  and  nose.  Sometimes 
an  old  shrivelled  squaw  will  take  up  a  shovel  of  hot  embers 
and  throw  tliem  into  a  captive's  bosom.  If  he  cry  out,  the 
Indians  v.'ill  laugh  and  shout,  and  say,  "  What  a  brave  action 
our  old  grandmother  has  done."  Sometimes  they  torture  them 
with  whips,  &c. 

The  Indians  looked  on  me  with  a  fierce  countenance,  as- 
much  as  to  say,  it  will  be  your  turn  next.  They  champed 
cornstalks,  which  they  threw  into  my  hat,  as  I  held  it  in  my 
hand.  I  smiled  on  them,  though  my  heart  ached.  I  looked 
on  one,  and  another,  but  could  not  perceive  that  any  eye  pitied 
me.  Presently  came  a  squaw  and  a  little  girl,  and  laid  down 
a  bag  of  corn  in  the  ring.  The  little  girl  took  me  by  the  hand, 
making  signs  for  me  to  go  out  of  the  circle  with  them.  Not 
knowing  their  custom,  I  supposed  they  designed  to  kill  me, 


by 
self 


*  "WTien  they  gashed  his  naked  breast,  they  said  in  derision,  "  I  cross 
out  my  account." — Ed. 

f  In  a  previous  note,  to  another  narrative,  I  have  referied  the  reader  to 
my  large  work,  (Thk  Book  of  the  Indians,)  where  all  the  circumstances 
cf  this  shocking  afTair  are  detailed. — Ed. 


.  <- 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY 


81 


ce,  as* 

imped 

jn  my 

looked 

pitied 

down 

hand, 

Not 

111  me, 

I J  cross 

idcrto 
Stances 


and  refused  to  go.  Then  a  grave  Indian  came  and  gave  me  a 
short  pipe,  and  said  in  English,  "  Smoke  it ;"  then  he  took  me 
by  the  hand  and  led  me  out.  My  heart  ached,  thinking  my- 
self near  my  end;  But  he  carried  me  to  a  French  hut,  about 
a  mile  from  the  Indian  fort.  The  Frenchman  was  not  at 
home,  but  his  wife,  who  was  a  squaw,  had  some  discourse  with 
my  Indian  friend,  which  I  did  not  understand.  We  tarried 
about  two  hours,  then  returned  to  the  Indian  village,  where 
they  gave  me  some  victuals.  Not  long  after  this  I  saw  one  of 
my  fellow-captives,  who  gave  me  a  melancholy  account  of 
their  sufferings  after  I  left  them. 

After  some  weeks  had  passed,  we  left  this  village  and  went 
up  St.  John's  river  about  ten  miles,  to  a  branch  called  Medock- 
scenecasis,  where  there  was  one  wigwam.  At  our  arrival  an 
old  squaw  saluted  me  with  a  yell,  taking  me  by  the  hair  and 
one  hand,  but  I  was  so  rude  as  to  break  her  hold  and  free 
myself.  She  gave  me  a  filthy  grin,  and  ^lie  Indians  set  up  a 
laugh,  and  so  it  passed  over.  Here  we  lived  upon  fish,  wild 
grapes,  roots,  &c.,  which  was  hard  living  to  me. 

When  the  winter  came  on  we  went  up  the  river,  till  the 
ice  came  down,  running  thick  in  the  river,  when,  according 
to  the  Indian  custom,  we  laid  up  our  canoes  till  spring.  Then 
we  travelled  sometimes  on  the  ice,  and  sometimes  on  the  land, 
till  we  came  to  a  river  that  was  open,  but  not  fordable,  where 
we  made  a  raft,  and  passed  over,  bag  and  baggage.  I  met 
with  no  abuse  from  them  in  this  winter's  hunting,  though  I  was 
put  to  great  hardships  in  carrying  burdens  and  for  want  of  food. 
But  they  underwent  the  same  difficulty,  and  would  often 
encourage  me,  saying,  in  broken  English,  "By  and  by  great 
deal  moosey  Yet  they  could  not  answer  any  question  I  asked 
them.  And  knowing  little  of  their  customs  and  way  of  life,  I 
thought  it  tedious  to  be  constantly  moving  from  place  to  place, 
though  it  might  be  in  some  respects  an  advantage  ;  for  it  ran 
still  in  my  mind  that  we  were  travelling  to  some  settlement ; 
and  when  my  burden  was  over-heavy,  and  the  Indians  left 
me  behind,  and  the  still  evening  coming  on,  I  fancied  I  could 
see  through  the  bushes,  and  hear  the  people  of  some  great 
town ;  which  hope,  though  some  support  to  me  in  the  day, 
yet  I  found  not  the  town  at  night. 

Thus  we  were  hunting  three  hundred  miles*  from  the  sea, 
and  knew  no  man  within  fifty  or  sixty  miles  of  us.  We  were 
eight  or  ten  in  number,  and  had  but  two  guns,  on  which  we 

*A  pardonable  error,  perhaps,  considering  the  author's  ignorance  of  the 
geography  of  the  country.  He  could  hardly  have  got  three  hundred 
miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Penobscot,  in  a  northerly  direction,  without 
crossing  the  St.  Lawrence. — Ed. 


81  JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY. 

wholly  depended  for  food.  If  any  disaster  had  happened,  we 
must  all  have  perished.  Sometimes  we  had  no  manner  of  sus- 
tenance for  three  or  four  days ;  but  God  wonderfully  provides 
for  all  creatures.  In  one  of  these  fasts,  God's  providence 
was  remarkable.  Our  two  Indian  men,  who  had  guns,  in 
hunting  started  a  moose,  but  there  being  a  shallow  crusted 
snow  on  the  ground,  and  the  moose  discovering  them,  ran  with 
great  force  into  a  swamp.  The  Indians  went  round  the  swamp, 
and  finding  no  track,  returned  at  night  to  the  wigwam,  and 
told  what  had  happened.  The  next  morning  they  followed 
him  on  the  track,  and  soon  found  him  lying  on  the  snow.  He 
had,  in  crossing  the  roots  of  a  large  tree,  that  had  been  blown 
down,  broken  through  the  ice  made  over  the  ^vater  in  the  hole 
occasioned  by  the  roots  of  the  tree  taking  up  the  ground,  and 
hitched  one  of  his  hind  legs  among  the  roots,  so  fast,  that  by 
striving  to  get  it  out  he  pulled  his  thigh  bone  out  of  its  socket 
at  the  hip ;  and  thus  extraordinarily  were  we  provided  for  in 
our  great  strait.  Sometimes  they  would  take  a  bear,  which 
go  into  dens  in  the  fall  of  the  year,  without  any  sort  of 
food,  and  lie  there  four  or  five  months  without  food,  never 
going  out  till  spring ;  in  which  time  they  neither  lose  nor 
gain  in  fliesh.  If  they  went  into  their  dens  fat  they  came  out 
so,  and  if  they  went  in  lean  they  came  out  lean.  I  have  seen 
some  which  have  come  out  with  four  whelps,  and  both  very 
fat,  and  then  we  feasted.  An  old  squaw  and  a  captive,  if  any 
present,  must  stand  without  the  wigwam,  shaking  their  hands 
and  bodies  as  in  a  dance  and  singing,  "  Wegage  oh  Tf  elo 
woH,"  which  in  English  is,  "  Fat  is  my  eating."  This  is  to 
signify  their  thankfulness  in  feasting  times.  When  one  supply 
was  spent  we  fasted  till  further  success. 

The  way  they  preserve  meat  is  by  taking  the  flesh  from  the 
bones  and  drying  it  in  smoke,  by  which  it  is  kept  sound 
months  or  years  withoiit  salt.  We  moved  still  further  up 
the  country  after  moose  wb?n  our  store  was  out,  so  that  by 
the  spring  we  had  go;  to  the  northward  of  the  Lady  moun- 
tains.'**' When  the  spring  came  and  :ne  rivers  broke  up,  we 
moved  bav*k  to  the  head  of  St.  John's  river,  and  there  made 
canoes  of  moose  hides,  sewing  three  or  four  together  pnd 
pitching  the  seams  Avith  Lalsam  mixed  with  charcoal.  Then 
we  went  down  the  river  to  a  place  called  Madawescook.l  There 
an   old  man   lived   and  kept  a  sort    of  trading  house,  where 

*  If  these  are  the  same  the  French  called  Monts  Notre  Dame,  our  cap- 
tive was  now  on  the  borders  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  to  the  north  of  the  head 
of  the  bay  of  Chaleurs. — Ed. 

t  Probably  the  now  well-known  Madawasca,  of  "  disputed  territory'' 
memory. 


we  t£ 
we  CI 
peag,  I 
off  01 
down  I 
dians 
At  leil 
canoes 
down 

The! 

and  to  I 

After 

return( 

tance  fl 

other  f 

corn  wj 

as  it  ri] 

in  larg 

then  sh 

in  the  s 

than  a  } 

it  swells 

sweeter 

and  drie 

Indian  b 

ered  wit] 

the  river 

fully  fav 

captivity 

Chapt 
several  a 
number  ( 
taken,  or 
a  dance, 
their  hai 
me,  aftei 
Englishn 
retaken  1 
Penobsco 
fire,  for  s 
and  they 
death  at 
that  they 
ihey  dive 
On  the 


lap- 
lead 


Iry' 


JOHN  GYLES'    CAPTIVITY. 


we  tarried  several  days ;  then  went  farther  down  the  river  till 
we  came  to  the  greatest  falls  in  these  parti,  called  Checaneke- 
peag,  where  we  carried  a  little  way  over  the  land,  and  putting 
off  our  canoes  we"  went  down-stream  still.  And  as  we  passed 
down  by  the  mouths  of  any  large  branches,  we  saw  In- 
dians ;  but  when  any  dance  was  proposed,  I  was  bought  off. 
At  length  we  arrived  at  the  place  where  we  left  our  birch 
canoes  in  the  fall,  and  putting  our  baggage  into  them,  went 
down  to  the  fort. 

There  we  planted  corn,  and  after  planting  went  a  fishing, 
and  to  look  for  and  dig  roots,  till  the  corn  was  fit  to  weed. 
After  weeding  we  took  a  second  tour  on  the  same  errand,  then 
returned  to  hill  our  corn.  After  hilling  we  went  some  dis* 
tance  from  the  fort  and  field,  up  the  river,  to  take  salmon  and 
other  fish,  whicJr  we  dried  for  food,  where  we  continued  till 
corn  was  filled  with  milk ;  some  of  it  we  dried  then,  the  other 
as  it  ripened.  To  dry  corn  whei.  in  the  milk,  they  gather  it 
in  large  kettles  and  boil  it  on  the  ears,  till  it  is  pretty  hard, 
then  shell  ii  from  the  cob  with  clam-shells,  and  dry  it  on  bark 
in  the  sun.  When  it  is  thoroughly  dry,  a  kernel  is  no  bigger 
than  a  pea,  and  would  keep  years,  and  when  it  is  boiled  again 
it  swells  as  large  as  when  on  the  ear,  and  tastes  incomparably 
sweeter  than  other  corn.  When  we  had  gathered  our  com 
and  dried  it  in  the  way  already  described,  we  put  some  into 
Indian  barns,  that  is,  into  holes  in  the  ground,  lined  and  cov* 
ered  with  bark,  and  then  with  dirt.  The  rest  we  carried  up 
the  river  upon  our  next  winter's  hunting.  Thus  God  wonder* 
fully  favored  me,  and  carried  me  through  the  first  year  of  my 
captivity. 

Chapter  II. — Of  the  abusive  and  barbarous  treatment  which 
several  captives  met  with  from  the  Indians.  When  any  gi*eat 
number  of  Indians  met,  or  when  any  captives  had  been  lately 
taken,  or  when  any  captives  desert  and  are  retaken,  they  have 
a  dance,  and  torture  the  unhappy  people  who  have  fallen  into 
their  hands.  My  unfortunate  brother,  who  was  taken  with 
me,  after  about  three  years'  captivity,  deserted  with  another 
Englishman,  who  had  been  taken  from  Casco  Bay,  and  was 
retaken  by  the  Indians  at  New  Harbor,  and  carried  back  to 
Penobscot  fort.  Here  they  were  both  tortured  at  a  stake  by 
fire,  for  some  time ;  then  their  noses  and  ears  were  cut  off, 
and  they  made  to  cat  them.  After  this  they  were  burnt  to 
death  at  the  stake  ;  the  Indians  at  the  same  time  declaring 
that  they  would  serve  all  deserters  in  the  same  manner.  Thus 
they  divert  themselves  in  their  dances.  t 

On  the  second  spring  of  my  captivity,  D\y  Indian  master  and'" 


!     t'i 


r  'I 


84 


JOHN  GYLES'    CAPTIVITY. 


M^ 


his  squaw  went  to  Canada,  but  sent  me  down  the  river  with 
several  Indians  to  the  fort,  to  plant  corn.  The  day  before  we 
came  to  the  planting  ground,  we  met  two  young  Indian  men, 
who  seemed  to  be  in  great  haste.  After  they  had  passed  us, 
I  understood  they  were  going  with  an  express  to  Canada,  and 
that  there  was  an  English  vessel  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  I 
not  being  perfect  in  their  language,  nor  knowing  that  English 
vessels  traded  with  them  in  time  of  war,  supposed  a  peace  was 
concluded  on,  and  that  the  captives  would  be  released ;  I  was 
so  transported  with  this  fancy,  that  I  slept  but  little  if  any  that 
night.  Early  the  next  ^.lorning  we  came  to  the  village,  where 
my  ecstacy  ended ;  for  I  had  no  sooner  landed,  but  three  or 
four  Indians  dragged  me  to  the  great  wigwam,  where  they 
were  yelling  and  dancing  round  James  Alexander,  a  Jersey 
man,  who  was  taken  from  Falmouth,  in  Casco  Bay.  This 
was  occasioned  by  two  families  of  Cape  Sable  Indians,  who, 
having  lost  some  friends  by  a  number  'of  English  fishermen, 
came  some  hundreds  of  miles  to  revenge  themselves  on  poor 
captives.  They  soon  came  to  me,  and  tossed  me  about  till  1 
was  almost  breathless,  and  then  threw  me  into  the  ring  to  my 
fellow-captive ;  and  taking  him  out,  repeated  their  barbarities 
on  him.  Then  I  was  hauled  out  again  by  three  Indians,  who 
seized  me  by  the  hair  of  the  head ;  and  bending  me  down  by 
my  hair,  one  beat  me  on  the  back  and  shoulders  so  long  that 
my  breath  was  almost  beat  out  of  my  body.  Then  others  put 
a  tomhake*  [tomahawk]  into  my  hands,  and  ordered  me  to  get 
up  and  sing  and  dance  Indian,  which  I  performed  with  the 
greatest  reluctance,  and  while  in  the  act,  seemed  determined 
to  purchase  hiy  death,  by  killing  two  or  three  of  those  monsters 
of  cruelty,  thinking  it  iuipossible  to  survive  their  bloody  treat- 
ment ;  but  it  was  impressed  on  my  mind  that  it  was  not  in 
their  power  to  take  away  my  life,  so  I  desisted. 

Then  those  Cape  Sable  Indians  came  to  me  again  like  bears 
bereaved  of  tlieir  whelp.^,  saying,  "  Shall  we,  who  have  lost 
relations  by  the  English,  suffer  an  English  voice  to  be  heard 
among  us  ? "  &c.     Then  they  beat  me  again  with  the  axe. 

*  The  tomhake  is  a  warlike  club,  the  shape  of  which  may  be  seen  in  cuts 
of  Etowohkoam,  one  of  the  four  Indian  chiefs,  which  cuts  are  common 
amongst  us.  [Mr.  Gyles  refers  to  the  four  Iroquois  chiefs,  who  visited 
England  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  About  those  chiefs  I  have  collect- 
ed and  published  the  particulars  in  the  Book  of  the  Indians.  And  I  will 
here  remark  that  the  compilers  of  the  ponderous  Indian  Biography  and 
History,  now  in  course  of  publication,  under  the  names  of  James  Hall 
and  T.  L.  M'Kenny,  have  borrowed  my  labors  with  no  sparing  hand — they 
have  not  even  owned  it ;  having  no  faith,  probably,  that  by  so  doing  they 
mijfht  pay  half  the  debt.  "He  who  steals  my  purse  steals  trash,"  but  he 
who  robs  me  of  my  labors  — Ed.] 


Nov 
of  t 
than 
otho 
pelie 
to  d( 
that 
it,  as 
them 
down 
thoug 
were 
for  th 
severe 
a  capt 
Aft( 
us  up  i 
on  our 
days, 
dance, 
leather 
got  Jar 
master 
hide,  ar 
for  ther 
master 
to  excite 
in  the  i 
whoopin 
me,  and 
I  was  n( 
had  reso 
had  good 
till  aboui 
calling, 
After  the 
they  told 
them  say, 
had  frighi 
out,  and  t 
had  a  bad 
away  into 
Mohawks, 
count  of  h 
Mohawks 
of  the  incii 


with 

e  we 

men, 

!d  us, 

I,  and 

,x.     I 

iglish 

ie  was 

I  was 

y  that 

where 

vree  or 

e  they 

Jersey 
This 

s,  who, 

lermen, 

on  poor 

ut  till  1 

^  to  my 

rharities 

ns,  who 
own  hy 

>ng  that 
ers  put 

le  to  get 
ith  the 
srmined 
iionsters 
Ly  treat- 
is  not  in 

ce  hears 

we  lost 

he  heard 

(he  axe. 

kn  in  cuts 

1  common 
ho  visited 
le  coUect- 
Lnd  I  will 

Vavfiy  ''"'^ 
Ines  Hall 
Ind— they 
Ijing  they 
v>  but  he 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


85 


Now  I  repented  that  I  had  not  sent  two  or  three  of  them  out 
of  the  world  before  me,  for  I  thought  I  had  much  rather  die 
than  suffer  any  longer.  They  left  me  the  second  time,  and  the 
other  Indians  put  the  tomhake  into  my  hands  again,  and  com- 
pelled me  to  sing.  Then  I  seemed  more  resolute  than  before 
to  destroy  some  of  them ;  but  a  strange  and  strong  impulse 
that  I  should  return  to  my  own  place  and  people  suppressed 
it,  as  often  as  such  a  motion  rose  in  my  breast.  Not  one  of 
them  showed  the  least  compassion,  but  I  saw  the  tears  run 
down  plentifully  on  the  cheeks  of  a  Frenchman  who  sat  behind, 
though  it  did  not  alleviate  the  tortures  that  poor  James  and  I 
were  forced  to  endure  for  the  most  part  of  this  tedious  day ; 
for  they  were  continued  till  the  evening,  and  were  the  most 
severe  that  ever  I  met  with  in  the  whole  six  years  that  I  was 
a  captive  with  the  Indians. 

After  thsy  had  thus  inhumanly  abused  us,  two  Indians  took 
us  up  and  threw  us  out  of  the  wigwam,  and  we  crawled  away 
on  our  hands  and  feet,  and  were  scarce  able  to  walk  for  several 
days.  Some  time  after  they  again  concluded  on  a  merry 
dance,  when  I  was  at  some  distance  from  the  wigwam  dressing 
leather,  and  an  Indian  was  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  that  they  had 
got  James  Alexander,  and  were  in  search  for  me.  My  Indian 
master  and  his  squaw  bid  me  run  for  my  life  into  a  swamp  and 
hide,  and  not  to  discover  myself  unless  they  both  came  to  me ; 
for  then  I  might  be  assured  the  dance  was  over.  I  was  now 
master  of  their  language,  and.  a  word  or  a  wink  was  enough 
to  excite  me  to  take  care  of  one.  I  ran  to  the  swamp,  and  hid 
in  the  thickest  place  I  could  find.  I  heard  hallooing  and 
whooping  all  around  me ;  sometimes  some  passed  very  near 
me,  and  I  could  hear  some  threaten  and  others  flatter  me,  but 
I  was  not  disposed  to  dance.  If  they  had  come  upon  me,  I 
had  resolved  to  show  them  a  pair  of  heels,  and  they  must  have 
had  good  lack  to  have  catched  me.  I  heard  no  more  of  them 
till  about  evening,  for  I  think  I  slept,  when  they  came  again, 
calling,  "  Chon !  Chon ! "  but  John  would  not  trust  them. 
After  they  were  gone,  my  master  and  his  squaw  came  where 
they  told  me  to  hide,  but  could  not  find  me  ;  and,  when  I  heard 
them  say,  with  some  concern,  they  believed  the  other  Indians 
had  frightened  me  into  the  woods,  and  that  I  was  lost,  I  came 
out,  and  they  seemed  well  pleased.  They  told  me  James  had 
had  a  bad  day  of  it ;  that  as  soon  as  he  was  released  he  ra^« 
away  into  the  woods,  and  they  believed  he  was  gone  to  tklBif 
Mohawks.  James  soon  returned,  and  gave  a  melancholy  &€!<•' 
count  of  his  sufferings,  and  the  Indians's  fright  concerning  the 
Mohawks  passed  over.  They  often  had  terrible  apprehension*' 
of  the  incursions  of  those  Indians.     They  are  called  alsoMet^ 


I 


;»  .... 


u    \ 


86 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


4\ 


-SV; 


quasy  a  most  ambitious,  haughty  and  blood-thirsty  people,  from 
whom  the  other  Indians  take  their  measures  and  manners,  and 
their  modes  and  liianges  of  dress,  &c.  One  very  ''ot  season, 
a  great  number  gathered  together  at  the  village  ^m'\  being  a 
very  droughty  [thirsty]  people,  they  kept  James  and  myself 
night  and  day  fetch. ng  water  from  a  cold  spring,  that  ran  out 
of  a  rocky  hill  about  three  quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  fort.  In 
going  thither,  we  crossed  a  large  interval  cornfield,  and  then  a 
descent  to  a  lower  interval,  before  we  ascended  the  hill  to  the 
spring.  James  being  almost  dead,  as  well  as  I,  with  this  con- 
tinual fatigue,  contrived  to  frighten  the  Indians.  He  told  me  of 
his  plan,  but  conjured  me  to  secrecy,  yet  said  ho  knew  I  could 
keep  counsel !  The  next  dark  night,  James,  going  for  water, 
set  his  kettle  down  on  the  descent  to  the  lowest  interval,  and 
running  back  to  the  fort,  puffing  and  blowing  as  though  in  the 
utmost  surprise,  told  his  master  that  he  saw  something  near 
the  spring  that  looked  like  Mohawks,  (which  were  only  stumps.) 
His  master,  being  a  most  courageous  warrior,  went  with  him 
to  make  discovery.  When  they  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
James  pointed  to  the  stumps,  and  withal  touching  his  kettle 
with  his  toe,  gave  it  motion  doAvn  the  hill ;  at  every  turn  its 
bail  clattered,  which  caused  James  and  his  master  to  see  a 
Mohawk  in  every  stump,  and  they  lost  no  time  in  "  turning 
tail  to,"  and  ao  was  the  best  fellow  who  could  run  the  fastest. 
Th'r  alarmed  v\\  ihe  Indians  in  the  village.  They  were  about 
thirty  or  fovty  in  number,  and  they  packed  off,  bag  and 
bagguge,  some  up  the  river  and  others  down,  and  did  not 
return  under  iifteen  days;  and  then  the  heat  of  the  weather 
being  finally  over,  our  hard  service  Avas  abated  for  this  season. 
I  never  heard  that  the  Indians  understood  the  occasion  of  their 
fright ;  but  James  and  I  had  many  a  private  laugh  about  it. 

But  my  most  intimate  and  dear  companion  was  one  John 
Evans,  a  young  man  taken  from  Quochecho.  We,  as  often  as 
we  could,  met  together,  and  made  known  our  grievances  to 
each  other,  Avhich  seemed  to  case  our  minds ;  but,  as  soon  as 
it  was  known  by  the  Indians,  v/e  were  strictly  examined  apart, 
and  falsely  accused  of  contriving  to  desert.  We  were  too  far 
from  the  sea  to  have  any  thought  of  that,  and  finding  our  sto- 
ries agreed,  did  not  punish  us.  An  English  captive  girl  about 
this  time,  who  was  taken  by  Medocawando,  would  often  false- 
ly accuse  us  of  plotting  to  desert;  but  we  made  the  truth  so 
plainly  appear,  that  she  was  checked  and  we  were  released. 
But  the  third  winter  of  my  captivity,  John  Evans  went  into 
the  country,  and  the  Indians  imposed  a  heavy  burden  on  him, 
while  he  was  extremely  weak  from  long  fasting ;  and  as  lie 
was  going  off  the  upland  over  a  place  of  ice,  which  was  ve 


kilh 


r-ery 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


87 


hollow,  he  broke  through,  fell  down,  and  cut  his  knee  very 
much.  Notwithstanding,  he  travelled  for  some  time,  but  the 
wind  and  cold  were  so  forcible,  that  they  soon  overcame  him, 
and  he  sat  or  fell  down,  and  all  the  Indians  passed  by  him. 
Some  of  them  went  back  the  next  day  after  him,  or  his  pack, 
and  found  him,  with  a  dog  in  his  arms,  both  frozen  to  death. 
Thus  all  of  my  fellow-captives  were  dispersed  and  dead,  but 
through  infinite  and  unmerited  goodness  as  supported  un- 
der and  carried  through  all  difficulties. 


I  f 


■\ 


turning 
fastest, 
e  about 
ig  and 
did  not 
ireather 
season. 
)f  their 
It  it. 
e  John 
fien  as 
ices  to 
lOon  as 
apart, 
too  far 
lur  to- 
about 
false- 
•uth  so 
[eased, 
it  into 
|n  him, 
as  lie 
is  very 


Chapter  III. — Of  further  difficulties    ■■>       ii      inces.    One 
winter,  as  we  were  moving  from  place  ^    ,  our  hunters 

killed  some  moose.  One  lying  some  miles  from  our  wig- 
wams, a  young  Indian  and  myself  were  ordered  to  fetch  part 
of  it.  We  set  out  in  the  morning,  when  the  weather  was 
promising,  but  it  proved  a  very  cold,  cloudy  day.  It  was  late 
in  the  evening  before  we  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  moose 
lay,  so  that  we  had  no  time  to  provide  materials  for  fire  or 
shelter.  At  the  same  time  came  on  a  storm  of  snow,  very 
thick,  which  continued  until  the  next  morning.  We  made  a 
small  fire  with  what  little  rubbish  we  could  find  around  us. 
The  fire,  with  the  warmth  of  our  bodies,  melted  the  snow  upon 
us  as  fast  as  it  fell ;  and  so  our  clothes  were  filled  with  water. 
However,  early  in  the  morning  we  took  our  loads  of  moose 
flesh,  and  set  out  to  return  to  our  wigwams.  We  had  not 
travelled  far  before  my  moose-skin  coat  (which  was  the  only 
garment  I  had  on  my  back,  and  the  hair  chiefly  worn  off)  was 
frozen  stiff  round  my  knees,  like  a  hoop,  as  were  my  snow- 
shoes  and  shoe-clouts  to  my  feet.  Thus  I  marched  the  whole 
day  without  fire  or  food.  At  first  I  was  in  great  pain,  then 
my  i;esh  became  numb,  and  at  times  I  felt  extremely  sick,  and 
thought  I  could  not  travel  one  foot  farther ;  but  I  wonderfully 
revived  again. 

After  long  travelling  I  felt  very  drowsy,  and  had  thoughts  of 
sitting  down,  which  had  I  done,  without  doubt  I  had  fallen 
on  my  final  sleep,  as  my  dear  companion,  Evans,  had  done 
before.  My  Indian  companion,  being  better  clothed,  had  left 
me  long  before.  Again  my  spirits  revived  as  much  as  if  I 
had  received  the  richest  cordial.  Some  hours  after  sunset  I 
reached  the  wigwam,  and  crawling  in  with  my  snow-shoes  on, 
the  Indians  cried  out,  "  The  captive  is  frozen  to  death  !"  They 
took  off  my  pack,  and  the  place  where  that  lay  against  my 
back  was  the  only  one  that  was  not  frozen.  They  cut  off  my 
shoes,  and  stripped  off  the  clouts  from  my  feet,  which  were  as 
void  of  feeling  as  any  frozen  flesh  could  be.  I  had  not  sat 
long  by  the  Are  before  the  blood  began  to  circulate,  and  my 


,^ 


I 


!  I 


^ 

.^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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HiotDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.\.  USSO 

(716)872-4503 


^ 

^\<^ 

'^^ 

i.^^ 


r^ 


\ 


5^ 


6^^^ 


88 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


i*^- 


feet  to  my  ankles  turned  black,  and  swelled  with  bloody  blis- 
ters, and  were  inexpressibly  painful.  The  Indians  said  one 
to  another,  "  His  feet  will  rot,  and  he  will  die."  Yet  I  slept 
well  at  night.  Soon  after,  the  skin  came  off  my  feet  from  my 
ankles,  whole,  like  a  shoe,  leaving  my  toes  naked,  without  a 
nail,  and  the  ends  of  my  great  toe  bones  bare,  which,  in  a  little 
lime,  turned  black,  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  cut  the  first  joint 
off  with  my  knife.  The  Indians  gave  me  rags  to  bind  up  my 
feet,  and  advised  me  to  apply  fir  balsam,  but  withal  added  that 
they  believed  it  was  not  worth  while  to  use  means,  for  I  should 
certainly  die.  But,  by  the  use  of  my  elbows,  and  a  stick  in 
each  hand,  I  shoved  myself  along  as  I  sat  upon  the  ground 
over  the  snow  from  one  tree  to  another,  till  I  got  some  balsam. 
This  I  burned  in  a  clam-shell  till  it  was  of  a  consistence  like 
salve,  which  I  applied  to  my  feet  and  ankles,  and,  by  the  di- 
vine blessing,  within  a  week  1  could  go  about  upon  my  heels 
with  my  staff.  And,  through  God's  goodness,  we  had  pro- 
visions  enough,  so  that  we  did  not  remove  under  ten  or  fifteen 
days.  Then  the  Indians  made  two  little  hoops,  something  in 
the  form  of  a  snow-shoe,  and  sewing  them  to  my  feet,  I  was 
able  to  follow  them  in  their  tracks,  on  my  heels,  from  place  to 
place,  though  sometimes  half  leg  deep  in  snow  and  water, 
which  gave  me  the  most  acute  pain  imaginable ;  but  I  must 
walk  or  die.  Yet  within  a  year  my  feet  were  entirely  well; 
and  the  nails  came  on  my  great  toes,  so  that  a  very  critical  eye 
could  scarcely  perceive  any  part  missing,  or  that  they  had  been 
frozen  at  all. 

In  a  time  of  great  scarcity  of  provisions,  the  Indians  chased 
a  large  moose  into  the  river,  and  killed  him.  They  brought 
the  flesh  to  the  village,  and  raised  it  on  a  scaffold,  in  a  large 
wigwam,  in  order  to  make  a  feast.  I  was  very  oflicious  in 
supplying  them  with  wood  and  water,  which  pleased  them  so 
well  that  they  now  and  then  gave  me  a  piece  of  flesh  half 
boiled  or  roasted,  which  I  ate  with  eagerness,  and  I  douht  not 
without  due  thankfulness  to  the  divine  Being  who  so  extra- 
ordinarily fed  me.  At  length  the  scaffold  bearing  the  moose 
meat  broke,  and  I  being  under  it,  a  large  niece  fell,  and  knock- 
ed me  on  the  head.*  The  Indians  said  I  lay  stunned  a  con- 
siderable time.  The  first  I  was  sensible  of  was  a  murmuring 
noise  in  my  ears,  then  my  sight  gradually  returned,  with  an 
extreme  pain  in, my  hand,  which  was  very  much  bruised  ;  and 
it  was  long  before  L  recovered,  the  weather  being  very  hot. 

I  was  once  fishing  with  an  Indian  for  sturgeon,  and  the 
Indian  darting  one,  his  feet  slipped,  and  he  turned  the  canoe 

*  Whether  he  were  stmck  by  a  timber  of  the  scaffold,  or  a  quantify  of 
tbs  meat  on  it,  we  are  left  to  conjecture,  and  it  is  not  very  material. — Ed. 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


80 


r  bli*- 
i  one 
[  slept 
m  my 
lout  a 
X  littld 
it  joint 
up  my 
d  that 
should 
tick  in 
ground 
)alsam. 
ce  like 
the  di- 
y  heela 
ad  pro- 
r  fifteen 
thing  in 
t,  I  waa 
place  to 
1  water, 
I  must 
y  well ; 
ical  eye 
,ad  been 


inti*y  of 
i.-Ed. 


bottom  upward,  with  me  under  it.  I  held  fast  to  the  cross-bar, 
as  I  could  not  swim,  with  my  face  to  the  bottom  of  the  canoe ; 
but  turning  myself,  I  brought  my  breast  to  bear  on  the  crosr- 
bar,  expecting  every  minute  the  Indian  to  tow  me  to.ths  bank. 
But  "  he  had  other  fish  to  fry."  Thus  I  continued  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  [though]  without  want  of  breath,  till  the  current 
drove  me  on  a  rocky  point  where  I  could  reach  bottom. 
There  1  stopped,  and  turned  up  my  canoe.  On  looking  about 
for  the  Indian,  I  saw  him  half  a  mile  off  up  the  river.  On 
going  to  him,  I  asked  him  why  he  had  not  towed  me  to  the 
bank,  seeing  he  knew  I  could  not  swim.  He  said  he  knew  I 
was  under  the  canoe,  for  there  were  no  bubbles  any  where  to 
be  seen,  and  that  I  should  drive  on  the  point.  So  while  he  was 
taking  care  of  his  fine  sturgeon,  which  was  eight  or  ten  feet  in 
length,  I  was  left  to  sink  or  swim. 

Once,  as  we  were  fishing  for  salmon  at  a  fall  of  about  fifteen 
feet  of  water,  I  came  near  being  drownded  in  a  deep  hole  at 
the  foot  of  the  fall.  The  Indians  went  into  the  water  to  wash 
themselves,  and  asked  me  to  go  with  them.  I  told  them  I 
could  not  swim,  but  they  insisted,  and  so  I  went  in.  They 
ordered  me  to  dive  across  the  deepest  place,  and  if  I  fell  short 
of  the  other  side  they  said  they  would  help  me.  But,  instead 
of  diving  across  the  narrowest  part,  I  was  crawling  on  the  bot- 
tom into  the  deepest  place.  They  not  seeing  me  rise,  and 
knowing  whereabouts  I  was  by  the  bubbling  of  the  water,  a 
young  girl  dived  down,  and  brought  me  up  by  the  hair,  other- 
wise I  had  perished  in  the  water.  Though  the  Indians,  both 
male  and  female,  go  into  the  water  together,  they  have  each 
of  them  suqJi  covering  on  that  not  the  least  indecency  can  be 
observed,  add  neither  chastity  nor  modesty  is  violated. 

While  at  the  Indian  village,  I  had  been  catting  wood  and 
binding  it  up  with  an  Indian  rope,  in  order  lo  carry  it  to  the 
wigwam ;  a  stout,  ill-natured  young  fellow",  about  twenty  years 
of  age,  threw  me  backward,  sat  on  my  breast,  pulled  out  his 
knife,  and  said  he  would  kill  me,  for  he  had  never  yet  killed 
one  of  the  English.  I  told  him  he  might  go  to  war,  and  that 
would  be  more  manly  than  to  kill  a  poor  captive  who  was  do-  : 
ing  their  drudgery  for  them.  Notwithstanding  all  I  could  say, 
be  began  to  cut  and  stab  me  on  my  breast.  I  seized  him  qfc 
the  hair,  and  tumbling  him  off  of  me,  followed  him  with  m* 
fists  and  knee  with  such  application  that  he  soon  cried 
"enough."  But  when  I  saw  the  blood  run  from  my  bosom,  and 
folt  the  smart  of  the  wounds  he  had  given  me,  I  at  him  again, 
and  bid  him  get  up,  and  not  lie  there  like  a  dog;  told  him  of 
his  former  abuses  offered  to  me,  and  other  poor  captives,  and 
that  if  ever  he  offered  the  like  to  me  again,  I  would  pay  him 
8* 


"i<'i 


•  ^ 


1 

MMMMMitii 


90 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


double.  I  sent  him  before  me,  and  taking  up  my  burden  of 
wood,  came  to  the  Indians,  and  told  them  the  whole  truth, 
and  they  commended  me.  And  I  do  not  remember  that  ever 
he  offered  me  the  least  abuse  afterwards,  though  he  was  big 
enough  to  have  despatched  two  of  me. 

Chapter  IV. — Of  remarkable  events  of  Providence  in  the 
deaths  of  several  barbarous  Indians.  The  priest  of  this  river 
was  of  the  order  of  St.  Francis,  a  gentleman  of  a  humane, 
generous  disposition.  In  his  sermons  he  most  severely  repre- 
hended the  Indians  for  the'  barbarities  to  captives.  He  would 
often  tell  them  that,  excepting  their  errors  in  religion,  the  Eng- 
lish were  a  better  people  than  themselves,  and  that  God  woiild 
remarkably  punish  such  cruel  wretches,  and  had  begun  to  exe- 
cute his  vengeance  upon  such  already  !  He  gave  an  account 
of  the  retaliations  of  Providence  upon  those  murderous  Cape 
Sttble  Indians  above  mentioned ;  one  of  whom  got  a  splinter 
into  his  foot,  which  festered  and  rotted  his  flesh  till  it  killed 
him.  Another  run  a  fish-bone  into  her  hand  or  arm,  and  she 
rotted  to  death,  notwithstanding  all  means  that  were  used  to 
prevent  it.  In  some  such  manner  they  all  died,  so  that  not 
one  of  those  two  families  lived  to  return  home.*  Were  it  not 
for  these  remarks  of  the  priest,  I  had  not,  perhaps,  have  noticed 
ihese  providences. 

There  was  an  old  squaw  who  ever  endeavored  to  outdo  all 
<others  in  cruelty  to  captives.  Wherever  she  came  into  a  wig- 
wam, where  any  poor,  naked,  starved  captives  were  sitting 
near*  the  fire,  if  they  were  grown  persons,  she  would  stealthily 
take  up  a  shovel  of  hot  coals,  and  t^  ->w  them  into  their  bo- 
soms. If  they  were  young  persons,  would  seize  them  by 
the  hand  or  leg,  drag  them  through  tl.  are,  &c.  The  Indians 
with  whom  she  lived,  according  to  their  custom,  left  their  vil- 
lage in  the  fall  of  the  year,  ai»a  dispersed  themselves  for  hunt- 
ing. After  the  first  or  second  romoval,  they  all  strangely  foriiot 
that  old  squaw  and  her  grandson,  about  twelve  years  of  aire. 
They  were  found  dead  in  the  place  where  they  were  left  some 
months  afterwards,  and  no  farther  notice  was  taken  of  them 
by  their  friends.  Of  this  the  priest  made  special  remark,  ibr- 
asmuch  as  it  is  a  thing  very  uncommon  for  them  to  ne<2lect 
either  their  old  or  young  people. 

In  the  latter  part  of  summer,  or  beginning  of  autumn,  the 
Indians   were   frequently   frightened  by   the   appearance    of 

*  Reference  is  probably  had  to  those  Indians,  of  whom  the  author  has 
before  spoken,  as  having  come  to  the  fort  of  those  with  whom  he  wm 
amoniEc,  to  be  revenged  on  any  whites  for  the  loss  of  some  of  their  fnends 
who  had  been  killed  by  white  fishermen. — £d. 


'""''''■"'^^^"'ri'aii?-"iii'fi»' 


sitting 

lalthily 

leir  bo- 

lem  by 

Indians 

ir  vil- 

hunt- 

forjiot 

>f  ace. 

some 

them 

If,  Cor- 

|ei2"lect 

|n,  the 

:e    of 

kor  has 
le  was 
Irieuds 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


91 


strange  Indians,  passing  up  and  down  this  river  in  canoes, 
and  about  that  time  the  next  year  died  more  than  one  hun- 
dred persons,  old  and  young  ;  all,  or  most  of  those  who  sayr 
those  strange  Indiana  !  The  priest  said  it  was  a  sort  of  plague. 
A  person  seeming  in  perfect  health  would  bleed  at  the  mouth 
and  nose,  turn  blue  in  spots,  and  die  in  two  or  three  hours."^ 
It  was  very  tedious  to  me  to  remove  from  place  to  place  this 
cold  season.  The  Indians  applied  red  ochre  to  my  sores, 
[which  had  been  occasioned  by  the  affray  before  mentioned,] 
which  by  God's  blessing  cured  me.  This  sickness  being  at 
the  worst  as  winter  came  on,  the  Indians  all  scattered  ;  and  the 
blow  was  so  great  to  them,  that  they  did  not  settle  or  plant  at 
their  village  while  I  was  on  the  river,  [St.  Johns,]  and  I  know 
not  whether  they  have  to  this  day.  Before  they  thus  deserted 
the  village,  when  they  came  in  from  hunting,  they  would  be  drunk 
and  fight  for  several  days  and  nights  together,  till  they  had  spent 
most  of  their  skins  in  wine  and  brandy,  which  was  brought  to 
the  village  by  a  Frenchman  called  Monsieur  Sigenioncour. 

Chaptee  Y.—Of  their  familiarity  with  and  frights  from 
the  devil,  Sec.  The  Indians  are  very  often  surprised  with  the 
appearance  of  ghosts  and  demons.  Sometimes  they  are  en- 
couraged by  the  devil,  for  they  go  to  him  for  success  in  hunt- 
ing, &;c.  I  was  once  hunting  Avith  Indians  who  were  not 
brought  over  to  the  Romish  faith,  and  after  several  days  they 
proposed  to  inquire,  according  to  their  custom,  what  success 
they  should  have.  They  accordingly  prepared  many  hot 
stones,  and  laying  them  in  a  heap,  made  a  small  hut  covered 
with  skins  and  mats  ;  then  in  a  dark  night  two  of  the  powwows 
went  into  this  hot  house  with  a  large  vessel  of  water,  which 
at  times  they  poured  on  those  hot  rocks,  which  raised  a  thick 
steam,  so  that  a  third  Indian  was  obliged  to  stand  without,  and 
lift  up  a  mat,  to  give  it  vent  when  they  were  almost  suffocated. 
There  was  an  old  squaw  who  was  kind  to  captives,  and  never 
joined  with  them  in  their  powwowing,  to  whom  I  manifested 
an  earnest  desire  to  see  their  management.  She  told  me  that 
if  they  knew  of  my  being  there  they  would  kill  me,  and  that" 
when  she  was  a  girl  she  had  known  young  persons  to  be 
taken  away  by  a  hairy  man,  and  therefore  she  would  not  advise 
me  to  go,  lest  the  hairy  man  should  carry  me  away.     I  told 

*  Calamitous  mortalities  are  oflen  mentioned  as  happening  amon^  the 
Indians,  hut  that  the  appearance  of  stmnge  Indians  had  any  thing  to  do 
with  it,  will  only  excite  admiration  to  the  enlightened  of  this  age.  It  was 
l*y  a  mortality  something  similar  that  the  country  about  the  coast  of 
Massachusetts  was  nearly  depopulated  two  or  three  years  before  the  settle* 
meat  of  Plymouth. — Ed.  .^      , 


'I 


93 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY. 


her  I  was  not  afraid  of  the  hairy  man,  nor  could  he  hurt  me  if 
she  would  not  discover  me  to  the  powwows.  At  length  she 
promised  me  she  would  not,  but  charged  me  to  be  careful  of 
myself.  I  went  within  three  or  four  feet  of  the  hot  house,  for 
it  was  very  dark,  and  heard  strange  noises  and  fellings,  such 
as  I  never  heard  before.  At  times  the  Indian  who  tended 
without  would  lift  up  the  mat,  and  a  steam  would  issue  which , 
looked  like  fire.  I  lay  there  two  or  three  hours,  but  saw  none 
of  their  hairy  men,  or  demons.  And  when  I  found  they  had 
finished  their  ceremony,  I  went  to  the  wigwam,  and  told  the 
squaw  what  had  passed.  She  was  glad  I  had  escaped  without 
hurt,  and  never  discovered  what  I  had  done.  After  some  time 
inquiry  was  made  of  the  powwows  what  success  we  were 
likely  to  have  in  our  hunting.  They  said  they  had  very 
likely  signs  of  success,  but  no  real  ones  as  at  other  times.  A 
few  days  after  we  moved  up  the  river,  and  had  pretty  good 
luck. 

One  afternoon  as  I  was  in  a  canoe  with  one  of  the  pow- 
wows the  dog  barked,  and  presently  a  moose  passed  by  within 
a  few  rods  of  us,  so  that  the  waves  he  made  by  wading  rolled 
our  canoe.  The  Indian  shot  at  him,  but  the  moose  took  very 
little  notice  of  it,  and  went  into  the  woods  to  the  southward. 
The  fellow  said,  "  I  will  try  if  I  can't  fetch  you  back  for  all 
your  haste."  The  evening  following,  we  built  our  two  wig- 
wams on  a  sandy  point  on  the  upper  end  of  an  island  in  the 
river,  north-west  of  the  pla<"?  where  the  moose  went  into  the 
woods ;  and  here  the  Indian  powwowed  the  greatest  part  of 
the  night  following.  In  the  morning  we  had  a  fair  track  of  a 
moose  round  our  wigwams,  though  we  did  not  see  or  taste  of 
» it.  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  devil  was  permitted  to  humor 
those  unhappy  wretches  sometimes,  in  some  things.* 

That  it  may  appear  how  much  they  were  deluded,  or  under 
the  influence  of  satan,  read  the  two  stories  which  were  related 
and  believed  by  the  Indians.  The  first,  of  a  boy  who  was  car- 
ried away  by  a  large  bird  called  a  GuIIoua,  who  buildeth  her 
nest  on  a  high  rock  or  mountain.  A  boy  was  hunting  with 
his  bow  and  arrow  at  the  foot  of  a  rocky  mountain,  when  the 
gulloua  came  diving  through  the  air,  grasped  the  boy  in  her 
talons,  and  although  he  was  eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  she 
soared  aloft  and  laid  him  in  her  nest,  food  for  her  young. 

*  Whatever  the  Indians  might  have  believed  about  the  devil,  one  thing 
Is  pretty  clear,  that  our  captive  had  great  faith  in  his  abilities.  Quite  as 
easy  a  way  to  have  accounted  for  moose  tracks  about  their  wigwam, 
would  have  been  to  suppose  that  that  animal  might  have  been  attixicted 
by  the  uncouth  noise  of  the  powwow  to  approach  them  lor  the  object  of 
discovery.    It  is  very  common  for  wild  animals  to  do  so. — ^Ed. 


-■'■ifi^-'f,ifi-ii^-:u-m;rfiil  f 


,.v- 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


98 


The  boy  lay  still  on  his  face,  but  observed  two  of  the  younff 
birds  in  the  nest  with  hin;,  having  much  fish  and  flesh  to  feed 
upon.  The  old  one  seeing  they  would  not  eat  the  boy,  took 
him  up  in  her  claws  and  returned  him  to  the  place  from  whence 
she  took  him.  I  have  passed  near  the  mountain  in  a  canoe, 
and  the  Indians  have  said,  "  There  is  the  nest  of  the  great  bird 
that  carried  away  the  boy."  Indeed  there  seemed  to  be  a  great 
number  of  sticks  put  together  like  a  nest  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain.  At  another  time  they  said,  "  There  is  the  bird,  but 
he  is  now  as  a  boy  to  a  giant  to  what  he  was  in  former  days." 
The  bird  which  we  saw  was  a  large  and  speckled  one,  like  an 
eagle,  though  somewhat  larger.* 

When  from  the  mountain  tops,  with  hideous  cry 

And  clattering  wings,  the  hungry  harpies  fly, 

They  snatched  #  #  #  # 

•        *        And  Avhether  gods  or  birds  obscene  they  were, 

Our  vows  for  pardon  and  for  peace  prefer. 

Drtden's  YrRon.. 

The  other  notion  is,  that  a  young  Indian  in  his  hunting  was 
belated,  and  losing  his  way,  was  on  a  sudden  introduced  to 
a  large  wigwam  full  of  dried  eels,  which  proved  to  be  a  bea- 
ver's house,  in  which  he  lived  till  the  spring  of  the  year,  when 
he  was  turned  out  of  the  house,  and  being  set  upon  a  beaver's 
dam,  went  home  and  related  the  affair  to  his  friends  at  large. 


J!    > 


thing 
lite  as 

kticted 
rtof 


Chapter    VI. — A  description  of  several  creatures  com.' 
monly  taken  by  the  Indians  on  St.  John's  river. 

I.  Of  the  Beaver. — The  beaver  has  a  very  thick,  strong 
neck  ;  his  fore  teeth,  which  are  two  in  the  upper  and  two  in 
the  under  jaw,  are  concave  and  sharp  like  a  carpenter's  gouge. 
Their  side  teeth  are  like  a  sheep's,  for  they  chew  the  cud. 
Their  legs  are  short,  the  claws  something  longer  than  in  , 
other  creatures.  The  nails  on  the  toes  of  their  hind  feet 
are  fiat  like  an  ape's,  but  joined  together  by  a  membrane,  as 
those  of  the  water-fowl,  their  tails  broad  and  fiat  like  the  broad 
end  of  a  paddle.  Near  their  tails  they  have  four  bottles,  two 
of  which  contain  oil,  the  others  gum  ;  the  necks  of  these  meet 
in  one  common  orifice.  The  latteriof  these  bottles  contain  the 
proper  castorum,  and  not  the  testicles,  as  some  have  fancied, 
for  they  are  distinct  and  separate  from  them,  in  the  males  only  ; 

*  Not  exactly  a./ish  story,  but  it  is  certainly  a  bird  story,  and  although  Mr. 
Gyles  has  fortified  himself  behind  "  believed  by  the  Indians,"  yet  I  fear   ^. 
his  reputation  for  credulity  will  be  somewhat  enhanced  in  the  mind  of   '>^ 
the  reader.    I  think,  however,  it  should  not  derogate  from  his  character 
for  veracity. 


m  t 


:0-  »' 


04 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


n 


whereas  the  castorum  and  oil  bottles  are  common  to  male  and 
female.  With  this  oil  and  gum  they  preen  themselves,  so 
that  when  they  come  out  of  the  water  it  runs  off  of  them,  as 
it  does  from  a  fowl.  They  have  four  teats,  which  are  on  their 
breasts,  so  that  they  hug  up  their  young  and  suckle  them,  as 
women  do  their  infants.  They  have  generally  two,  and  some- 
times four  in  a  litter.  I  have  seen  seven  or  five  in  the  matrix, 
but  the  Indians  think  it  a  strange  thing  to  find  so  many  in  a 
litter  ;  and  they  assert  that  when  it  so  happens  tiio  dam  kills  ' 
all  but  four.  They  are  the  most  laborious  creatures  that  1 
have  met  with.  I  have  known  them  to  build  dams  across  a 
river,  thirty  or  forty  perches  wide,  with  wood  and  mud,  so  as 
to  flow  many  acres  of  land.  In  the  deepest  part  of  a  pond  so 
raised,  they  build  their  houses,  round,  in  the  figure  of  an  Indian 
wigwam,  eight  or  ten  feet  high,  and  six  or  eight  in  diameter 
on  the  floor,  which  is  made  descending  to  the  water,  the  parts 
near  the  centre  about  four,  and  near  the  circumference  between 
ten  and  twenty  inches  above  the  water.  These  floors  are  cov- 
ered with  strippings  of  wood,  like  shavings.  On  these  they 
sleep  with  their  tails  in  the  water  ;*  and  if  the  freshets  rise,  they 
have  the  advantage  of  rising  on  their  floor  to  the  highest  part. 
They  feed  on  the  leaves  and  bark  of  trees,  and  pond  lily 
roots.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  they  lay  in  their  provision  for 
the  approaching  winter ;  cutting  down  trees  great  and  small. 
With  one  end  in  their  mouths  they  drag  their  branches  near  to 
their  house,  and  sink  many  cords  of  it.  (They  will  cut  [gnaw] 
down  trees  of  a  fathom  in  circumference.)  They  have  doors 
to  go  down  to  the  wood  under  the  ice.  And  in  case  the  fresh- 
ets rise,  break  down  and  carry  off  their  store  of  wood,  they 
often  starve.  They  have  a  note  for  conversing,  calling  and 
warning  each  other  when  at  work  or  feeding  ;  and  while  they 
are  at  labor  they  keep  out  a  guard,  who  upon  the  first  approach 
of  an  enemy  so  strikes  the  water  with  his  tail  that  he  may 
be  heard  half  a  mile.  This  so  alarms  the  rest  that  they  are 
all  silent,  quit  their  labor,  and  are  to  be  seen  no  more  for  that 
time.  If  the  male  or  female  die,  the  survivor  seeks  a  mate, 
and  conducts  him  or  her  to  their  house,  and  carry  on  affairs  as 
above. 

<  II.  Of  the  Wolverene.  [Gulo  Liiscus  o(  h.]  The  wol- 
verene is  a  very  fierce  and  mischievous  creature,  about  the 
bigness  of  a  middling  dog ;  haA'ing  short  legs,  broad  feet  and 

♦  I  recollect  to  have  seen  a  similar  statement  by  that  singular  genius, 
Thomas  Morton,  of  Mare  Mount,  in  his  more  singular  book,  New  Eng- 
lish Canaan,  about  beavers  keeping  their  tails  in  the  water.  Morton, 
however,  tells  us  the  reason  they  do  so,  viz.  "nhich  else  would  overhtat  and 
rot  off,"— Ed. 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


95 


le  wol- 
lut  the 
^et  and 

I  genius, 
Emg- 
lorton, 
litat  and 


very  sharp  claws,  and  in  my  opinion  may  be  reckoned  a  spe- 
cies of  cat.  They  will  climb  trees  and  wait  for  moose  and 
other  animals  which  feed  below,  and  when  opportunity  pre- 
sents, jump  upon  and  strike  their  claws  in  them  so  fast  that 
they  will  hang  on  them  till  they  have  gnawed  the  main  nerve 
in  their  neck  asunder,  which  causes  their  death.  I  have 
known  many  moose  killed  thus.  I  was  once  travelling  a  little 
way  behind  several  Indians,  and  hearing  them  laugh  merrily, 
;when  I  came  up  I  asked  them  the  cause  of  their  laughter. 
They  showed  me  the  track  of  a  moose,  and  how  a  wolverene 
had  climbed  a  tree,  and  where  he  had  jumped  off  upon  a 
moose.  It  so  happened,  that  after  the  moose  had  taken  seve- 
ral large  leaps,  it  came  under  the  branch  of  a  tree,  which  strik- 
ing the  wolverene,  broke  his  hold  and  tore  him  off;  and  by 
his  tracks  in  the  snow  it  appeared  he  went  off  another  way» 
with  short  steps,  as  if  he  had  been  stunned  by  the  blow  that 
had  broken  his  hold.  The  Indians  imputed  the  accident  to 
the  cunning  of  the  moose,  and  were  wonderfully  pleased  that 
it  had  thus  outwitted  the  mischievous  wolverene. 

These  wolverenes  go  into  wigwams  which  have  -been  left 
for  a  time,  scatter  the  things  abroad,  and  most  filthily  pollute 
them  with  ordure.  I  have  heard  the  Indians  say  that  this  ani- 
mal has  sometimes  pulled  their  guns  from  under  their  head3 
while  they  were  asleep,  and  left  them  so  defiled.  An  Indian 
told  me  that  having  left  his  wigwam  with  sundry  things  on 
the  scaffold,  among  which  was  a  birchen  flask  containing  seve- 
ral pounds  of  powder,  he  found  at  his  return,  much  to  his  sur- 
prise and  grief,  that  a  wolverene  had  visited  it,  rnounted  the 
scaffold,  hove  down  bag  and  baggage.  The  pow  r  flask  hap- 
pening to  fall  into  the  fire,  exploded,  blowing  up  the  volverene, 
and  scattering  the  wigwam  in  all  directions.  At  length  he 
found  the  creature,  blind  from  the  blast,  wandering  backward 
and  forward,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  kicking  and  beat- 
ing him  about !  This  in  a  great  measure  made  up  their  loss, 
and  then  they  could  contentedly  pick  up  their  utensils  and  rig 
out  their  wigwam. 

III.  Of  the  Hedgehog,  [Histriz  Dorsata,']  or  Urchin, 
[Urson?]  Our  hedgehog  or  urchin  is  about  the  bigness  of  a 
hog  of  six  months  old.  His  back,  sides  and  tail  are  full  of 
sharp  quills,  so  that  if  any  creature  approach  him,  he  will  con- 
tract himself  into  a  globular  form,  and  when  touched  by  his 
enemy,  his  quills  are  so  sharp  and  loose  in  the  skin  they  fix  in 
the  mouth  of  the  adversary.  They  will  strike  with  great  force 
with  their  tails,  so  that  whatever  falls  under  the  lash  of  them 
ore  certainly  filled  with  their  prickles ;  but  that  they  shoot 
their  quills,  as  some  assert  they  do,  is  a  great  mistake,  as  re- 


..«f^' 


.■■%^-.-v  ■-"       -di 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


spects  the  American  hedgehog,  and  I  believe  ns  to  the  Afri- 
ean  hedgehog  or  porcupine,  also.  As  to  the  former,  I  have 
taken  them  at  all  seasons  of  the  year. 

IV.  Of  the  Tortoise.  It  is  needless  to  describe  the  fresh- 
water tortoise,  whose  form  is  so  well  known  in  all  parts;  but 
their  manner  of  propagating  their  species  is  not  so  universally 
known.  I  have  observed  that  sort  of  tortoise  whose  shell  is 
about  fourteen  or  sixteen  inches  wide.  In  their  coition  they 
may  be  heard  half  a  mile,  making  a  noise  like  a  woman  wash- 
ing her  linen  with  a  batting  staff".  They  lay  their  eggs  in  the 
sand,  near  some  deep,  still  water,  about  a  foot  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  the  sand,  with  which  they  are  very  curious  in  covering 
them ;  so  that  there  is  not  the  least  mixture  of  it  amongst 
them,  nor  the  least  rising  of  sand  on  the  beach  where  they  are 
deposited.  I  have  often  searched  for  them  with  the  Indians, 
by  thrusting  a  stick  into  the  sand  at  random,  and  brought  up 
some  part  of  an  egg  clinging  to  it ;  when,  uncovering  the  place, 
we  have  found  near  one  hundred  and  fifty  in  one  nest.  Both 
their  eggs  and  flesh  are  good  eating  when  boiled.  I  have 
observed  a  difference  as  to  the  length  of  time  in  which  they 
tie  hatching,  which  is  between  twenty  and  thirty  days ;  some 
sooner  than  others.  Whether  this  difference  ought  to  be  im- 
puted to  the  various  quality  or  site  of  the  sand  in  which  they 
are  laid,  (as  to  the  degree  of  cold  or  heat,)  I  leave  to  the  con- 
jecture of  the  virtuosi.  As  soon  as  they  are  hatched,  the 
young  tortoise  breaks  through  the  sand  and  betake  themselves 
to  the  water,  and,  as  far  as  I  could  dis<iover,  without  any  fur- 
ther care  or  help  of  the  old  ones. 

Chapter  VII. — Of  their  feasting.  1.  Before  they  go  to 
toar.  When  the  Indians  determine  on  war,  or  are  entering 
upon  a  particular  expedition,  they  kill  a  number  of  their  dogs, 
burn  oflf  their  hair  and  cut  them  to  pieces,  leaving  only  one 
dog's  head  whole.  The  rest  of  the  flesh  they  boil,  and  make 
a  fine  feast  of  it.  Then  the  dog's  head  that  was  left  whole  is 
scorched,  till  the  nose  and  lips  have  shrunk  from  the  teeth, 
leaving  them  bare  and  grinning.  This  done,  they  fasten  it  on 
a  stick,  and  the  Indian  who  is  proposed  to  be  chief  in  the  expe- 
dition takes  the  head  into  his  hand,  nnd  sings  a  warlike  song, 
in  which  he  mentions  the  town  they  design  to  attack,  and  the 
principal  man  in  it ;  threatening  that  in  a  few  days  he  will 
carry  that  man's  head  and  scalp  in  his  hand,  in  the  same  man- 
ner. When  the  chief  has  finished  singing,  he  so  places  the 
dog's  head  as  to  grin  at  him  who  he  SNBteposes  will  go  his 
second,  who,  if  he  accepts,  takes  the  head'^'in  his  hand  and 
sings  ;  but  if  he  refuses  to  go,  he  turns  the  teeth  to  another ; 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


97 


Afri- 
have 

fresh- 
i;  but 
jrsally 
lell  is 
n  they 
wash- 
in  the 
lie  sur- 
ivering 
nongst 
ley  are 
ndians, 
ght  up 
B  place, 

Both 
I  have 
h  they 
;  some 
I  he  im- 
:h  they 
e  con- 
^ed,  the 

selves 
,ny  fur- 


go  to 
Intering 
V  dogs, 
ily  one 
'  make 
^hole  is 
teeth, 
tn  it  on 
expe- 
song, 
\nd  the 
e  will 
man- 
tes the 
Igo  his 
\d  and 
lother ; 


and  thus  from  one  to  another  till  they  have  enlisted  their  com- 
pany. 

The  Indians  imagine  that  dog's  flesh  makes  them  bold  and 
courageous.  I  have  seen  nn  Indian  split  a  dog*s  head  with  a 
hatchet,  take  out  the  brains  hot,  and  eat  them  raw  with  the 
blood  running  down  his  jaws  ! 

2.  When  a  relation  dies.  In  a  still  evening,  a  squaw 
will  walk  on  the  highest  land  near  her  abode,  and  with  a 
loud  and  mournful  voice  will  exclaim,  '*  Oh  hawe,  hawe,  haioe" 
with  a  long,  mournful  tone  to  each  hawe,  for  a  long  time 
together.  After  the  mourning  season  is  over,  the  relations  of 
the  deceased  make  a  feast  to  wipe  off  tears,  and  the  bereaved 
may  marry  freely.  If  the  deceased  was  a  squaw,  the  relations 
consult  together,  and  choose  a  squaw,  (doubtless  a  widow,)  and 
send  her  to  the  widower,  and  if  he  likes  her  he  takes  her 
to  be  his  wife,  if  not,  he  sends  her  back,  and  the  relations 
choose  and  send  till  they  find  one  that  he  approves  of. 

If  a  young  fellow  determines  to  marry,  his  relations  and  the 
Jesuit  advise  him  to  a  girl.  He  goes  into  the  wigwam  where 
she  is,  and  looks  on  her.  If  he  likes  her  appearance,  he  tosses 
a  chip  or  stick  into  her  lap,  which  she  takes,  and  with  a 
reserved,  side  look,  views  the  person  who  sent  it;  yet  handles 
the  chip  with  admiration,  as  though  she  wondered  from  whence 
it  came.  If  she  likes  him  she  throws  the  chip  to  him  with  a 
modest  smile,  and  then  nothing  is  wanting  but  a  ceremony  with 
the  Jesuit  to  consummate  the  marriage.  But  if  she* dislikes 
her  suitor,  she,  with  a  surly  countenance,  throws  the  chip  aside, 
and  he  comes  no  more  there. 

If  parents  have  a  daughter  marriageable  they  seek  a  hus- 
band for  her  who  is  a  good  hunter.  If  she  has  been  educated 
to  make  monoodah,  (Indian  bags,)  birch  dishes,  to  lace  snow- 
shoes,  make  Indian  shoes,  string  wampum  belts,  sew  birch 
canoes,  and  boil  the  kettle,  she  is  esteemed  a  lady  of  fine 
accomplishments.  If  the  man  sought  out  for  her  husband 
have  a  gun  and  ammunition,  a  canoe,  spear,  and  hatchet,  a 
monoodah,  a  crooked  knife,  looking-glass  and  paint,  a  pipe, 
tobacco,  and  knot-bowl  to  toss  a  kind  of  dice  in,  he  is  accounted 
a  gentleman  of  a  plentiful  fortune.  Whatever  the  new-married 
man  procures  the  first  year  belongs  to  his  wife's  parents.  If 
the  young  pair  have  a  child  within  a  year  and  nine  months, 
they  are  thought  to  be  very  forward  and  libidinous  persons. 

ay  their  play  with  dice  they  lose  much  time,  playing  whole 
days  and  nights  together;  sometimes  staking  their  whole 
efiects ;  though  this  is  accounted  a  great  vice  by  the  old  men. 

A  digression. — There  is  an  old  story  told  amongthe  Indians 

of  a  family  who  had  a  daughter  that  was  accounted  -i^  finished 

9  ■•■.■■,.;—     ■   • 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


beavty,  having  been  adorned  with  the  precious  jewel,  an  Indian 
education  !  She  was  so  formed  by  nature,  and  polished  by  art, 
thut  they  could  not  find  for  her  a  suitable  consort.  At  length, 
while  this  family  were  once  residing  upon  the  head  of  Penob- 
scot river,  under  the  White  hills,  called  Teddon^  this  line  crea- 
ture was  missing,  and  her  parents  could  learn  no  tidings  of  her. 
After  much  time  and  pains  spent,  and  tears  showered  in  quest 
of  her,  they  saw  her  aiverting  herself  with  a  beautiful  youth, 
whose  hair,  like  her  own,  flowed  down  below  his  waist,  swim- 
ming, washing,  &c.,  in  the  water;  but  they  vanished  upon 
their  approach.  This  beautiful  person,  whom  they  imagined 
to  be  one  of  those  kind  spirits  who  inhabit  the  Teddon,  they 
looked  upon  as  their  son-in-law;  and,  according  to  their 
custom,  they  called  upon  him  for  moose,  bear,  or  whatever 
creature  they  desired,  and  if  they  did  but  go  to  the  water-side 
and  signify  their  desire,  the  animal  would  come  swimming  to 
them  !  I  have  heard  an  Indian  say  that  ho  lived  by  the  river, 
at  the  foot  of  the  Teddon,  the  top  of  which  he  could  see  through 
the  hole  of  his  wigwam  left  for  the  smoke  to  pass  out.  He 
was  tempted  to  travel  to  it,  and  accordingly  set  out  on  a  sum- 
mer morning,  and  labored  hard  in  ascendmg  the  hill  all  day, 
and  the  top  seemed  as  distant  from  the  place  where  he  lodged 
at  night  as  from  his  wigwam,  where  he  began  his  journey.  He 
now  concluded  the  spirits  were  there,  and  never  dared  to  make 
a  second  attempt. 

I  have  been  credibly  informed  that  several  others  have  failed 
in  like  attempts.  Once  three  young  men  climbed  towards  its 
summit  three  days  and  a  half,  at  the  end  of  which  time  they 
became  strangely  disordered  with  delirium,  &c.,  and  when 
their  imagination  was  clear,  and  they  could  recollect  where 
they  were,  they  found  themselves  returned  one  day's  journey. 
How  they  came  to  be  thus  transported  they  could  not  conjec- 
ture, unless  the  genii  of  the  place  had  conveyed  them.  These 
White  hills,  at  the  head  of  Penobscot  river,  are,  by  the  Indians, 
said  to  be  much  higher  than  those  called  Agiockochook,  above 
Saco.* 

But  to  return  to  an  Indian  feast,  of  which  you  may  request  a 
bill  of  fare  before  you  go.  If  you  dislike  it,  stay  at  home.  The 
ingredients  are  fish,  flesh,  or  Indian  corn,  and  beans  boiled 
together;  sometimes  hasty  pudding  made  of  pounded  corn, 
whenever  and  as  often  as  these  are  plenty.  An  Indian  boils 
four  or  five  large  kettles  full,  and  sends  a  messenger  to  each 
wigwam  door,  who  exclaims,  **  Kuh  Tnenscoorebah .'"  that  is, 
"  I  come  to  conduct  you  to  a  feast."    The  man  within  demands 

*  Some  additions  to  these  traditions  will  be  found  in  the  Book  of  ihe  Jn^ 
iKoNi,  iu.  131.— Ed. 


JOHN  OYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


idian 

y  art, 

ngth, 

enob- 

crea- 

fher. 

quest 

routh, 

3wim- 

upon 
igined 
I,  they 

theiT 
atever 
BT-side 
ling  to 
!  river, 
tirough 
t.    He 
a  sum- 
ill  day, 
lodged 
>y.    He 
0  make 

failed 
ards  its 
le  they 

when 

where 
jurney. 
conjec- 

These 
ndians, 

:,  above 

quest  a 
.   The 
boiled 
corn, 
in  boils 
Ito  each 
Ithat  is, 
>mands 


whether  he  must  take  u  spoon  or  a  Vttife  in  his  dish,  which  he 
always  carries  with  him.  They  appoint  two  or  three  young 
men  to  mess  it  out,  to  each  man  his  portion,  according  to  the 
number  of  his  family  at  home.  This  is  done  with  the  utmost 
exactness.  When  they  have  done  eating,  a  young  fellow  stands 
without  the  door,  and  cries  aloud,  '*  Me/tisecommook,^^  •'  come  and 
fetch!"  Immediately  each  squaw  goes  to  her  husband  and 
takes  what  he  has  left,  which  she  carries  home  and  eats  with 
her  children.  For  neither  married  women,  nor  any  youth 
under  twenty,  are  allowed  to  be  present;  but  old  widow 
squaws  and  captive  men  may  sit  by  the  door.  The  Indian 
men  continue  in  the  wigwam;  some  relating  their  warlike 
exploits,  others  something  co.nical,  others  narrating  their 
hunting  exploits.  The  seniors  g've  maxims  of  prudence  and 
grave  counsel  to  the  young  mci  ;  and  though  every  one's 
speech  be  agreeable  to  the  run  of  h  s  own  fancy,  yet  they  con- 
fine themselves  to  rule,  and  but  omt  speaks  at  a  time.  After 
every  man  has  told  his  story,  one  rijes  up,  sings  a  feast  song, 
and  others  succeed  alternately  as  the  company  sees  fit. 

Necessity  is  the  mother  of  invention.  If  an  Indian  loses  his 
fire,  he  can  presently  take  two  sticks,  one  harder  than  the 
other,  (the  drier  the  better,)  and  in  the  softest  one  make  a  hol- 
low, or  socket,  in  which  one  end  of  the  hardest  stick  being 
inserted,  then  holding  the  softest  piece  firm  between  his  knees, 
whirls  it  round  like  a  drill,  and  fire  will  kindle  in  a  few 
minutes. 

If  they  have  lost  or  left  their  kettle,  it  is  but  putting  their 
victuals  into  a  birch  dish,  leaving  a  vacancy  in  the  middle, 
filling  it  with  water,  and  putting  in  hot  stones  alternately ; 
they  will  thus  thoroughly  boil  the  toughest  neck  of  beef. 

Chapter  VITI. — Of  my  three  years  captivity  toith  ike 
French. — When  about  six  years  of  my  doleful  captivity  had 
passed,  my  second  Indian  master  died,  whose  squaw  and  my 
first  Indian  master  disputed  whose  slave  I  should  be.  Some 
malicious  persons  advised  them  to  end  the  quarrel  by  putting 
a  period  to  my  life ;  but  honest  father  Simon,  the  priest  of  the 
river,  told  them  that  it  w^ould  be  a  heinous  crime,  and  advised 
them  to  sell  me  to  the  French.  There  came  annually  one  or 
two  men  of  war  to  supply  the  fort,  which  was  on  the  river 
about  34  leagues  from  the  sea.  The  Indians  having  advice  of 
the  arrival  of  a  man  of  war  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  they, 
about  thirty  or  forty  in  number,  went  on  board ;  for  the  gentle- 
men from  France  made  a  present  to  them  every  year,  and  set 
forth  the  riches  and  victories  of  their  monarch,  &c.  At  this 
time  they  presented  the  Indians  with  a  bag  or  two  of  flour  with 


too 


JOHN  GYLES'    CAPTIVITY. 


some  prunes,  as  ingredients  for  a  feast.  I,  who  was  dressed 
up  in  an  old  greasy  blanket,  without  cap,  hat,  or  shirt,  (for  I 
had  had  no  shirt  for  the  six  years,  except  the  one  I  had  on  at 
the  time  I  was  made  prisoner,)  was  invited  into  the  great  cabin, 
where  many  well-rigged  gentlemen  were  sitting,  who  would 
fain  have  had  a  full  view  of  me.  I  endeavored  to  hide  myself 
behind  the  hangings,  for  I  was  much  ashamed ;  thinking  how 
I  had  once  worn  clothes,  and  of  my  living  with  people  who 
could  rig  as  well  as  the  best  of  them.  My  master  asked  me 
whether  I  chose  to  be  sold  to  the  people  of  the  man  of  war,  or 
to  the  inhabitants  of  the  country.  I  replied,  with  tears,  that 
I  should  be  Mad  if  he  would  sell  me  to  the  English  from  whom 
I  was  taken  ;  but  that  if  I  must  be  sold  to  the  French,  I  wished 
to  be  sold  to  the  lowest  inhabitants  on  the  river,  or  those  near- 
est to  the  sea,  who  were  about  twenty-five  leagues  from  the 
mouth  of  the  river ;  for  I  thought  that,  if  I  were  sold  to  the 
gentlemen  in  the  ship,  I  should  never  return  to  the  English. 
This  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  the  sea  during  my  captivity, 
and  the  first  time  I  had  tasted  salt  or  bread. 

My  master  presently  went  on  shore,  and  a  few  days  after  all 
the  Indians  went  up  the  river.  When  we  came  to  a  house 
which  I  had  spoken  to  my  master  about,  he  went  on  shore 
with  me,  and  tarried  all  night.  The  master  of  the  house  spoke 
kindly  to  me  in  Indian,  for  I  could  not  then  speak  one  word  of 
French.  Madam  also  looked  pleasant  on  me,  and  gave  me 
some  bread.  The  next  day  I  vias  sent  six  leagues  further  up 
the  river  to  another  French  house.  My  master  and  the  friar 
tarried  with  Monsieur  Dechouffour,  the  gentleman  who  had 
entertained  us  the  night  before.  Not  long  after,  father  Simon 
came  and  said,  *'  Now  you  are  one  of  us,  for  you  are  sold  to 
that  gentleman  by  whom  you  were  entertained  the  other  night. 
I  replied,  "  Sold ! — to  a  Frenchman !"  I  could  say  no  more, 
went  into  the  woods  alone,  and  wept  till  I  could  scarce  see  or 
stand !  The  word  sold,  and  that  to  a  people  of  that  persua- 
sion which  my  dear  mother  so  much  detested,  and  in  her  last 
words  manifested  so  great  feavs  of  my  falling  into !  These 
thoughts  almost  broke  my  heart, 

When  I  had  thus  given  ven',  to  my  grief  I  wiped  my  eyes, 
endeavoring  to  conceal  its  effects,  but  father  Simon,  perceiving 
my  eyes  wer-^  swollen,  called  me  aside,  and  bidding  me  not  to 
grieve,  for  the  gentleman,  he  said,  to  whom  I  was  sold,  was  of 
a  good  humor;  that  he  had  formerly  bought  two  captives, 
both  of  whom  had  been  sent  to  Boston.  This,  in  some  mea- 
sure, revived  me ;  but  he  added  he  did  not  suppose  I  would 
ever  wish  to  go  to  the  English,  for  the  French  religion  was  so 
much  better.     He  said,  also,  he  should  pass  that  way  in  about 


foil 


'.i^A^LVVbcOL-fluM,.  "^^■j.A'l^ 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY. 


101 


iir 


;rup 
friar 

had 
limon 
>ld  to 
^ight. 

lore, 
lee  or 
Irsua- 
last 

'hese 

;yeb, 

iving 

iot  to 

IS  of 

lives, 

lea- 

Irould 

IS  so 

kbouti 


ten  days,  and  if  T  did  not  like  to  live  with  the  French  better 
than  with  the  Indians  he  would  buy  me  again.  On  the  day 
following,  father  Simon  and  my  Indian  master  went  up  the 
river,  six  and  thirty  leagues,  to  their  chief  village,  and  I  went 
down  the  river  six  leagues  with  two  Frenchmen  to  my  new 
master.  He  kindly  received  me,  and  in  a  few  days  madam 
made  me  an  osnaburg  shirt  and  French  cap,  and  a  coat  out  of 
one  of  my  master's  old  coals.  Then  I  threw  away  my  greasy 
blanket  and  Indian  flap,  and  looked  as  smart  as  — .  And  I 
never  more  saw  the  old  friar,  the  Indian  village,  or  my  Indian 
master,  till  about  fourteen  years  after,  when  I  saw  my  old 
Indian  master  at  Port  Royal,  whither  I  had  been  sent  by  the 
government  with  a  flag  of  truce  for  the  exchange  of  prisoners ; 
and  again,  about  twenty-four  years  since,  he  came  to  St.  John's, 
to  fort  George,  to  see  me,  where  I  made  him  very  welcome. 

My  French  master  held  a  great  trade  with  the  Indians, 
which  suited  me  very  well,  I  being  thorough  in  the  languages 
of  the  tribes  at  Cape  Sable  and  St.  Johns. 

I  had  not  lived  long  with  this  gentleman  before  he  commit- 
ted to  me  the  keys  of  his  store,  &c.,  and  my  whole  employment 
was  trading  and  hunting,  in  which  I  acted  faithfully  for  my 
master,  and  never,  knowingly,  wronged  him  to  the  value  of  one 
farthing. 

They  spoke  to  me  so  much  in  Indian  that  it  was  some  time 
before  I  was  perfect  in  the  French  tongue.  Monsieur  gene- 
rally had  his  goods  from  the  men-of-war  which  came  there 
annually  from  France. 

In  the  year  1696,  two  men-of-war  came  to  the  mouth  of  the 
river.  In  their  way  they  had  captured  the  Newport,  Captain 
Payson,  and  brought  him  with  them.  They  made  the  Indians 
some  presents,  and  invited  them  to  join  in  an  expedition  to 
Pemmaquid.  They  accepted  it,  and  soon  after  arrived  there. 
Capt.  Chubb,  who  commanded  that  post,  delivered  it  up  with- 
out much  dispute  to  Monsieur  D'Iberville,  as  I  heard  the  gen- 
tleman say,  with  who.:  I  lived,  who  was  there  present.* 

Early  in  the  spring  I  was  sent  with  three  Frenchmen  to  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  for  provision,  which  came  from  Port  Royal. 
We  carried  over  land  from  the  river  to  a  large  bay,  where  we 
were  driven  on  an  island  by  a  north-east  storm,  where  we  were 
kept  seven  days,  without  any  sustenance,  for  we  expected  a 
quick  passage,  and  carried  nothing  with  us.     The  wind  cott- 

♦  The  reverend  Dr.  Mather  says,  wittily,  as  he  says  everything,  "  Thi»!)^  • 
Chubb  found  opponunity,  in  a  pretty  Chttbhish  manner,  to  kill  the  famous  *^, 
Edgeremet  and  Ahenquid,  a  couple  of  principal  Indians,  on  a  Lord's  day,  ^ 
the  16th  of  February,  1695.    If  there  is  any  unfair  dealing  in  this  action 


9* 


■*¥y 


I'll 
I.  I  ' 

j 

i 


\f 


i 


X 


^^^V*"'" 


102 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITy. 


tinuing  boisterous,  we  could  not  return  back,  and  the  ice  pre- 
vented our  going  forward.  After  seven  days  th6  ice  broke  up 
and  we  went  forward,  though  we  were  so  weak  that  we  could 
scarce  hear  each  other  speak.  The  people  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river  were  surprised  to  see  us  alive,  and  advised  us  to  be  cau- 
tious and  abstemious  in  eating.  By  this  time  I  knew  as  much 
of  fasting  as  they,  and  dieted  on  broth,  and  recovered  very  well, 
as  did  one  of  the  others ;  but  the  other  two  would  not  be 
advised,  and  I  never  saw  any  persons  in  greater  distress,  till 
at  length  they  had  action  of  the  bowels,  when  they  recovered. 

A  friar,  who  lived  in  the  family,  invited  me  to  confession, 
but  I  excused  myself  as  well  as  I  could  at  that  time.  One 
evening  he  took  me  into  his  apartment  in  the  dark  and  advised 
me  to  confess  to  him  what  sins  I  had  committed.  I  told  him  I 
«ould  not  remember  a  thousandth  part  of  them,  they  were  so 
numerous.  Then  he  bid  me  remember  and  relate  as  many  as 
I  coufld,  and  he  would  pardon  them;  signifying  he  had  a  bag 
rto  put  them  in.  I  told  him  I  did  not  believe  it  wns  in  the 
owwer  of  any  but  God  to  pardon  sin.  He  asked  me  whether  I 
nad  read  the  Bible.  I  told  him  I  had,  when  I  was  a  little  boy, 
but  at  was  so  long  ago  I  had  forgotten  most  of  it.  Then  he 
told  me  he  did  not  pardon  my  sins,  but  when  he  knew  them  he 
prayed  to  God  to  pardon  them ;  when,  perhaps,  I  M^as  at  my 
sports  and  play&  He  wished  me  well  and  hoped  I  should  be 
better  advised,  and  said  he  should  call  for  me  in  a  little  time. 
Thus  he  dismissed  me,  nor  did  he  ever  call  me  to  confession 
afterwards. 

The  gentleman  with  whom  I  lived  had  a  fine  field  of  wheat, 
in  which  great  numbers  of  black-birds  continually  collected  and 
made  great  havoc  in  it.  The  French  said  a  Jesuit  would  come 
and  banish  them.  He  did  at  length  come,  and  having  all 
things  prepared,  he  took  a  basin  of  holy  water,  a  staff  with  a 
little  brush,  and  having  on  his  white  robe,  went  into  the  field 
of  wheat.  I  asked  several  prisoners  who  had  lately  been  taken 
b^  privateers,  and  brought  in  there,  viz.  Mr.  Woodbury,  Cocks 
[Cox  ?]  and  Morgan,  whether  they  would  go  and  see  the  cere- 
mony.    Mr.  Woodbury  asked  me  whether  I  designed  to  go, 

of  Chubb,  there  will  be  another  February,  not  far  off,  wherein  the  avenger 
of  blood  will  take  satisfaction." — Hist.  N.  E.  [Magnalia]  B.  vii.  79. 

Mr.  Mather  adds,  "  On  the  4th  or  5th  of  August,  Chubb,  with  an  iin' 
common  baseness,  did  surrender  the  brave  fort  of  Pemraaquid  into  their 
hands."  [For  an  account  of  the  ivretched  fate  of  Chubb  as  well  as  that 
of  the  whole  transaction,  see  Book  of  the  Indians,  B.  iii.  121,.  122.] 

(Tnthinking  men  no  sort  of  scruples  make, 
(.'  And  some  are  bad  only  for  mischief 's  sake,  '■ 

But  ev'n  the  best  are  guilty  by  mistake. 


.»,; 


«r 


•«> 


JOHN  GYLES'   CAPTIVITY. 


103 


^ger 


Inn- 

leir 
that 


and  I  told  him  yes.  He  then  said  I  was  as  had  as  a  papist» 
and  a  d — d  fool.  I  told  him  I  believed  as  little  of  it  as  he  did, 
but  that  I  was  inclined  to  see  the  ceremony,  that  I  might  tell 
it  to  my  friends. 

With  aboiit  thirty  following  in  procession,  the  Jesuit  marched 
through  the  field  of  wheat,  a  young  lad  going  before  him  bear- 
ing the  holy  water.  Then  the  Jesuit,  dipping  his  brush  into 
the  holy  water,  sprinkled  the  field  on  each  side  of  him ;  a  little 
bell  jingling  at  the  same  time,  and  all  singing  the  words  Ora 
pro  nobis.  At  the  end  of  the  field  they  wheeled  to  the  left 
aboutj  and  returned.  Thus  they  passed  and  repassed  the  field 
of  wheat,  the  black-birds  all  the  while  rising  before  them  only 
to  light  behind.  At  their  return  I  told  a  French  lad  that  the 
friar  had  done  no  service,  and  recommended  them  to  shoot  the 
birds.  The  lad  left  me,  as  I  thought,  to  see  what  the  Jesuit 
would  say  to  my  observation,  which  turned  out  to  be  the  casef 
for  he  told' the  lad  that  the  sins  of  the  people  were  so  great  that 
he  could  not  prevail  against  those  birds.  The  same  friar  as 
vainly  attempted  to  banish  the  musketoes  from  Signecto,  but 
the  sins  of  the  people  there  were  also  too  great  for  him  to  pre- 
vail, but^  on  the  other  hand,  it  seemed  that  more  came,  which 
caused  the  people  to  suspect  that  some  had  come  for  the  sins> 
of  the  Jesuit  also. 

Some  time  after,  Col.  Hawthorne  attempted  the  taking  of 
the  French  fort  up  thiii  river.  We  heard  of  him  some  time 
before  he  came  up,  by  the  guard  which  Governor  Villebon  had 
stationed  at  the  river's  mouth.  Monsieur,  my  master,  had  gone 
to  France,  and  madam,  his  wife,  advised  with  me.  She  desir- 
ed me  to  nail  a  paper  on  the  door  of  her  house,  which  paper 
read  as  follows : 

"  I  entreat  the  general  of  the  English  not  to  bum  my  house 
or  bam,  nor  destroy  my  cattle.  I  don't  suppose  that  such  an 
army  comes  here  to  destroy  a  few  inhabitants,  but  to  take  the 
fort  above  us.  I  have  shown  kindness  to  the  English  captives, 
as  we  were  capacitated,  and  have  bought  two,  of  the  Ihdians, 
and  sent  them  to  Boston.  We  have  one  now  with  us,  and  he 
shall  go  also  when  a  convenient  opportunity  presents,  and  he 
desires  it." 

When  I  had  done  this,  madam  said  to  me,  "  Little  English," 
[which  was  the  familiar  name  she  used  to  call  me  by,]  "  we 
have  shown  you  kindness,  and  now  it  lies  in  your  power  to 
serve  or  disserve  us,  as  you  know  where  our  goods  are  hid  in 
the  woods,  and  that  monsieur  is  not  at  home.  I  could  have 
sent  you  to  the  fort  and  put  you  under  confinement,  but  my 
resp^t  to  you  and  your  ascurance  of  love  to  us  have  disposed 
me  t#conade  in  you;  persuaded  you  will  not  hurt  us  or  our 


"V 


104 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


■^•-« 


•«.: 


afTairs.  And,  now,  if  you  will  not  run  away  to  the  English, 
who  are  coming  up  the  river,  but  serve  our  interest,  T  will  ac- 
quaint monsieur  of  it  on  his  return  from  France,  which  will  be 
very  pleasing  to  him ;  and  I  now  give  my  word,  you  shall  have 
liberty  to  go  to  Boston  on  the  first  opportunity,  if  you  desire  it, 
or  any  other  favor  in  my  power  shall  not  be  denied  you."  ) 
replied : 

"  Madam.,  it  is  contrary  to  the  nature  of  the  English  to  re>^ 
quite  evil  for  good.  I  shall  endeavor  to  serve  you  and  your 
interest.  I  shall  not  run  to  the  English,  but  if  I  am  taken  by 
them  I  shall  willingly  go  with  them,  and  yet  endeavor  not  to 
disserve  you  either  in  your  person  or  goods." 

The  place  where  we  lived  was  called  Hagimsack,  twenty-five 
leagues  from  the  river's  mouth,  as  I  have  before  stated. 

We  now  embarked  and  went  in  a  large  boat  and  canoe  two 
or  three  miles  up  an  eastern  branch  of  the  river  that  comes 
from  a  large  pond,  and  on  the  following  evening  sent  down  four 
hands  to  make  discovery.  And  while  they  were  sitting  in  the/ 
house  the  English  surrounded  it  and  took  one  of  the  four. 
The  other  three  made  their  escape  in  the  dark  and  through 
the  English  soldiers,  and  coming  to  us,  gave  a  surprising  ac- 
count of  affairs.  Upon  this  news  madam  said  to  me,  "  tiittle 
English,  now  you  can  go  from  us,  but  I  hope  you  will  remem- 
ber your  word."  I  said,  "  Madam,  be  not  concerned.  I  will 
not  leave  you  in  this  strait."  She  said,  "  I  know  not  what  to 
do  with  my  two  poor  little  babes ! "  I  said,  "  Madam,  the 
sobner  we  embark  and  go  over  the  great  pond  the  better." 
Accordingly  we  embarked  and  went  over  the  pond.  The  next 
day  we  spoke  with  Indians,  who  were  in  a  canoe,  and  they 
gave  us  an  account  that  Signecto  town  was  taken  and  burnt. 
Soon  after  we  heard  the  great  guns  at  Gov.  Villebon's  fort, 
which  the  English  engaged  several  days.  They  killed  one 
man,  then  drew  off  down  the  river ;  fearing  to  continue  longer, 
for  fear  of  being  frozen  in  for  the  winter,  which  in  truth  they 
would  have  been. 

Hearing  no  report  of  cannon  for  several  Jays,  I,  with  two 
others,  went  down  to  our  house  to  make  discovery.  We  found 
our  young  lad  who  was  taken  by  the  English  \vhen  they  went 
up  the  river.  The  general  had  shown  himself  so  honorable, 
that  on  reading  the  note  on  our  door,  he  ordered  it  not  to  be 
burnt,  nor  the  barn.  Our  cattle  and  other  things  he  preserved, 
except  one  or  two  and  the  poultry  for  their  use.  At  their 
return  they  ordered  the  young  lad  to  be  put  on  shore.  Find- 
ing things  in  this  posture,  we  returned  and  gave  madam  an 
account  of  it. 

She  acknowledged  the  many  favors  which  the  English  had 


showed 
The  ne 
war. 
would 

Accoi 
sloop  ca 
chael  C( 
him  the 
English, 
do  for  m 
but  rath 
relations 
and  take 
very  kin 
dam,  anc 
me,  to  s( 
Starkee, 
and  if  so, 
to  pay  at 
The  masi 
owner  sh 
rather  thi 
see  any  t 
On  the 
sloop  cam 
the  same, 
came  on  b 
tivity,  and 
little  brotl 
Pemmaqu: 
the  fort  at 
who  made 
our  two  lit 
dead  some 
brother. 

On  the  i 
June,  1698 
years,  ten 
though  I  I 
God's  good 
Being  acce] 
riences  to  e 
the  infinite 


./-■sv: 


JOHN  GYLES'  CAPTIVITY. 


lOd 


showed  her,  with  gratitude,  and  treated  me  with  great  civility. 
The  next  spring  monsieur  arrived  from  France  in  the  man-of- 
war.  He  thanked  me  for  my  care  of  his  aflairs,  and  said  he 
would  endeavor  to  fulfil  what  madam  had  promised  me. 

Accordingly,  in  the  year  1698,  peace  being  proclaimed,  a 
sloop  came  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  with  ransom  for  one  Mi- 
chael Coom.s.  I  put  monsieur  in  mind  of  his  word,  telling 
him  there  was  now  an  opportunity  for  me  to  go  and  see  the 
English.  He  advised  me  to  continue  with  him ;  said  he  would 
do  for  me  as  for  his  own,  &c.  I  thanked  him  for  his  kindness, 
but  rather  chose  to  go  to  Boston,  hoping  to  find  some  of  my 
relations  yet  alive.  Then  he  advised  me  to  go  up  to  the  fort 
and  take  my  leave  of  the  governor,  which  I  did,  and  he  spoke 
very  kindly  to  me.  Some  days  after  I  took  my  leave  of  ma- 
dam, and  monsieur  went  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  with 
me,  to  see  me  safely  on  board.  He  asked  the  master,  Mr. 
Starkee,  a  Scotchman,  whether  I  must  pay  for  my  passage, 
and  if  so,  he  would  pay  it  himeelf  rather  than  I  should  have  it 
to  pay  at  my  arrival  in  Boston,  but  he  gave  me  not  a  penny. 
The  master  told  him  there  was  nothing  to  pay,  and  that  if  the 
owner  should  make  any  demand  he  would  pay  it  himself, 
rather  than  a  poor  prisoner  should  suffer ;  for  he  was  glad  to 
see  any  English  person  come  out  of  captivity. 

On  the  13th  of  June,  I  took  my  leave  of  monsieur,  and  the 
sloop  came  to  sail  for  Boston,  where  we  arrived  on  the  19th  of 
the  same,  at  night.  In  the  morning  after  my  arrival,  a  youth 
came  on  board  and  asked  many  questions  relating  to  my  cap- 
tivity, and  at  length  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  was  my 
little  brother,  who  was  at  play  with  some  other  children  at 
Pemmaquid  when  I  was  taken  captive,  and  who  escaped  into 
the  fort  at  that  perilous  time.  He  told  me  my  elder  brother, 
who  made  his  escape  from  the  farm,  when  it  was  taken,  and 
our  two  little  sisters,  were  alive,  but  that  our  mother  had  been 
dead  some  years.  Then  we  went  on  shore  and  saw  our  elder 
brother. 

On  the  2d  of  August,  1689, 1  was  taken,  and  on  the  19th  of 
June,  1698,  I  arrived  at  Boston ;  so  that  I  was  absent  eight 
years,  ten  months,  and  seventeen  days.  In  all  which  time, 
though  I  underwent  extreme  difficulties,  yet  I  saw  much  of 
Grod's  goodness.  And  may  the  most  powerful  and  beneficent 
Being  accept  of  this  public  testimony  of  it,  and  bless  my  expe- 
riences to  excite  others  to  confide  in  his  all-sufficiency,  through 
the  infinite  merits  of  Jesus  Christ. 


•'TlJ 


iV>     \ 


y    I 


■mr 


106 


APPENDIX,  containing  mitiutes  of  the  employments,  public 
stations,  etc.,  of  John  Gyles,  Esq.,  commander  of  the  garri- 
son  on  St.  George's  river. 

After  my  return  out  of  captivity,  June  28th,  1698, 1  applied 
myself  to  the  government  for  their  favor.  Soon  after  I  was 
employed  by  old  father  Mitchel,  of  Maiden,  to  go  as  his  inter- 
preter on  trading  account  to  St.  John's  river. 

October  14th,  1698,  I  was  employed  by  the  government, 
Lieutenant  Governor  Stoughton  commander-in-chief,  to  go  as 
interpreter,  at  three  pounds  per  month,  with  Major  Converse 
and  old  Capt.  Alden  to  Penobscot  to  fetch  captives.  At  our 
return  to  Boston  I  was  dismissed ;  but  within  a  few  days  the 
governor  sent  for  me  to  interpret  a  conference  with  Bomma- 
zeen,  and  other  Indians  then  in  jail. 

Some  time  after  I  was  again  put  in  pay  in  order  to  go  inter- 
preter with  Col.  Phillips  and  Capt.  Southack,  in  the  province 
galley,  to  Casco  bay,  to  exchange  said  Indians  [Bommazeen 
and  others]  for  English  captives.  In  December,  1698,  we 
returned  to  Boston  with  several  captives  which  we  had  libe- 
rated, and  I  was  dismissed  the  service,  and  desired  to  attend  it 
in  the  spring.  I  pleaded  to  be  kept  in  pay  that  I  might  have 
wherewith  to  support  myself  at  school.  I  went  into  the  coun- 
try, to  Rowley,  where  boarding  was  cheap,  to  practise  what 
little  I  had  attained  at  school. 

March,  1699.  With  the  little  of  my  wages  that  I  could 
reserve,  I  paid  for  my  schooling  and  board,  and  attended  the 
service  upon  request,  and  was  again  put  into  pay,  and  went 
with  Col.  Phillips  and  Maj.  Converse  in  a  large  brignntine  up 
Kennebeck  river  for  captives,  and  at  our  return  to  Boston  the 
province  galley  being  arrived  from  New  York  with  my  lord 
Bellemont,  and  the  province  truck  put  on  board,  I  was  ordered 
on  board  the  galley.  We  cruised  on  the  eastern  shore ;  and 
in  November,  1699, 1  was  put  out  of  pay,  though  I  pleaded  to 
be  continued  in  it,  seeing  I  must  attend  the  service  in  the 
spring,  and  be  at  considerable  expense  in  the  winter  for  my 
schooling. 

In  the  spring  of  1700, 1  attended  the  service,  and  was  under 
pay  again.  On  August  27th,  a  fort  was  ordered  to  be  built  at 
Casco  bay,  which  was  finished  on  the  6th  of  October  following, 
and  the  province  truck  landed,  and  I  was  ordered  to  reside 
there  as  interpreter,  with  a  captain,  &c.  Not  long  after.  Gov. 
Dudley  sent  me  a  lieutenant's  commission,  with  a  memoran- 
dum on  its  back,  "  No  further  pay  but  as  interpreter  at  three 
pounds  per  month." 


I 


Aug 
fort  for 
16th  o 
ince  g( 

Ma^ 
directii 
an  exp( 
I  returi 
ment  f 
garriso] 

Apri 
garrisoi 
was  gri 
present( 
Saltons 
in  ordei 
tion  un( 
which 

May 
to  Port 
brought 

In  17 
orders  ti 
to  join 
received 
my  lieut( 
exchang( 
Thomas 
were  all 
me  to  de 
[Gov.  D 
ers  withi 
demand 
I  was  or< 
resented 
spring,  a 
had  retu 
made  pr 
ticular  ir 
company 

Accor( 
by  Gov. 
Soon  aft( 

*AfuU 
Church's  1 
the  editor  ( 


.-     ^ 


APPENDIX. 


107 


August  10th,  1703.  The  French  and  Indians  besieged  our 
fort  for  six  days.  (Major  March  was  our  commander.)  On  the 
16th  of  the  same  month,  Capt.  Southack  arrived  in  the  prov- 
ince galley,  and  in  the  night  following  the  enemy  withdrew. 

May  19th,  1704.  I  received  a  few  lines  from  his  excellency 
directing  me  to  leave  my  post,  and  accompany  Col.  Church  on 
an  expedition  round  the  bay  of  Fundy.*  September  following 
I  returned  to  my  post,  without  any  further  wagu  s  or  encourage- 
ment for  that  service  than  the  beforementioued  pay  at  the 
garrison. 

April,  1706.  There  was  a  change  of  the  chief  officer  at  our 
garrison.  I  chose  to  be  dismissed  with  my  old  officer,  which 
was  granted.  The  same  year  his  excellency  Gov.  Dudley 
presented  me  with  a  captain's  commission,  and  ordered  Colonel 
Saltonstall  to  detach  fifty  effective  men  to  be  delivered  to  me 
in  order  for  a  march.  In  May,  1707, 1  entered  on  an  expedi- 
tion under  Col.  March,  for  Port  Royal,  at  the  termination  of 
which  I  was  dismissed. 

May  12th,  1708, 1  received  orders  from  his  excellency  to  go 
to  Port  Hoyal  with  a  flag  of  truce  to  exchange  prisoners,  and 
brought  off  all.     At  my  return  I  was  dismissed  the  service. 

In  1709, 1  received  a  commission,  and  Colonel  Noyes  had 
orders  to  detach  forty  men,  whom  he  put  under  me,  with  orders 
to  join  the  forces  for  Canada.  At  Hull,  August  1st,  1709, 1 
received  orders  from  his  excellency  to  leave  my  company  with 
my  lieutenants,  and  go  to  Port  Royal  with  a  flag  of  truce  to 
exchange  prisoners.  I  went  in  the  sloop  Hannah  and  Ruth, 
Thomas  Waters,  master.  I  had  nine  French  prisoners,  which 
were  all  that  were  in  our  governor's  hands.  These  he  ordered 
me  to  deliver  to  Gov.  Supercass,  "  and  to  let  him  know  that  he 
[Gov.  Dudley]  expected  him  to  deliver  all  the  English  prison- 
ers within  his  power,  within  six  days,  which  I  was  ordered  to 
demand  and  insist  upon,  agreeably  to  his  promise  last  year." 
I  was  ordered  to  observe  to  him  that  Governor  Dudley  highly 
resented  his  breach  of  promise  in  not  sending  th^sm  early  this 
spring,  according  to  his  parole  of  honor,  by  myself,  when  we 
had  returned  him  upwards  of  forty  of  his  people,  and  had 
made  provision  for  bringing  home  ours;  and  to  make  par- 
ticular inquiry  after  Capt.  Myles,  and  to  demand  his  and  his 
company's  release  also. 

Accordingly,  arriving  at  Port  Royal,  I  was  kindly  entertained 
by  Gov.  Supercass ;  brought  off  above  one  hundred  prisoners. 
Soon  after  my  return  our  forces  were  dismissed,  and  I  received 

'*'  A  full  account  of  this  expedition  under  Col.  Church  will  be  found  in 
Church's  History  of  King  Philip's  War,  &c.  ed.  12mo.,  Boston,  1827,  by 
the  editor  of  this. 


i  J 


«! 


108 


APPENDIX. 


rl 


u 

I  i  V 


\\ 


! .' 

i 

i 

,   / 
^1 


no  other  consideration  for  my  service  than  pay  as  captain  of 
ray  company. 

August,  1715.  I  was  desired,  and  had  great  promises  made 
me  by  the  proprietors,  and  received  orders  from  his  excellency 
to  build  a  fort  at  Pejepscot,  [now  Brunswick,  Me.]  Soon  after 
our  arrival  there  the  Indians  came  in  the  night,  and  forbid  our 
laying  one  stone  upon  another.  I  told  them  I  came  with 
orders  from  Governor  Dudley  to  build  a  fort,  and  if  they  dis- 
liked it  they  might  acquaint  him  with  it ;  and  that  if  they 
came  forcibly  upon  us,  they  or  I  should  fall  on  the  spot.  After 
such  like  hot  words  they  left  us,  and  we  went  on  with  our 
building,  and  finished  it,  November  25th,  1715,  and  our  car- 
penters and  masons  left  us.  My  wages  were  very  small,  yet 
the  gentlemen  propritjtors  ordered  me  only  five  pounds  for  my 
good  services,  &;c. 

July  12th,  1722,  a  number  of  Indians  engaged  fort  George 
about  two  hoursj  killing  one  person,  and  then  drew  off  to  kill- 
ing cattle,  &c. 

April,  1725,  I  received  orders  from  his  honor  Lieut.  Gov. 
Dummer  to  go  ten  days'  march  up  Ammiscoggin  river,  and  in 
my  absence  the  Indians  killed  two  men  at  our  fort.  I  received 
ho  further  pay  for  said  service,  only  the  pay  of  the  garrison. 

December  12th,  1725,  I  was  dismissed  from  fort  George, 
and  Gapti  Woodside  received  a  commission  for  the  command 
of  that  place. 

December  13th,  1725,  I  was  commissioned  for  the  garrison 
at  St.  Gfeorge  river. 

September,  1726.   I  was  detained  some  months  from  my 

{lost,  by  order  of  Gov.  Dummer,  to  interpret  for  the  Cape  Sable 
ndians,  who  were  brought  in  and  found  guilty.*  There  was 
no  other  person  in  the  province  that  had  their  language.  His 
honor  and  the  honorable  council  presented  me  with  ten  pounds 
for  this  service,  which  I  gratefully  received. 

Nov.  28th,  1728, 1  was  commissioned  for  the  peace. 
I  have  had  the  honor  to  serve  this  province  under  eight 
commanders  in  chief,  governors,  and  lieutenant  governors,  from 
the  year  1698  to  the  year  1736 ;  and  how  much  longer  my 
services  may  continue  I  submit  to  the  Governor  of  the  world, 
who  overrules  every  circumstance  of  life,  which  relates  to 
our  happiness  and  usefulness,  as  in  infinite  wisdom  he  sees 
meet. 

♦  There  -were  five  of  them  belonging  to  the  St.  Francis  tribe.  The> 
had  seized  on  a  vessel  at  Newfoundland  belonging  to  Plymouth.  The 
act  being  considered  piracy,  they  were  all  executed  at  Boston. — (Ed.) 
MS.  Ckrotudts  of  tite  Jndians. 


OP  EXCES 
STRUG' 
HAMPS 
VIZ.,  TI 
YEARS' 
PORTW 
MAGNA! 
MATHEI 

When  tl 
New  Engli 
The  wise  r 
urging  thej 
fortification 
and  Salmoi 
aqua  ri/er, : 
the  particuli 
tied  The  B 
ferred. 

But,  as  hi 

the  people  d 

continued,  t] 

dream  of  a  i 

more  than  fi 

call  the  wors 

to  tell  what  i 

the  family  ol 

pious  wife  a 

others  of  th( 

these  arrived 

and  the  most 


■  >*---'aiIj:-t^-lj,lV'j.!'™  ..Slivi-i&^i' 


.^^^j^Bii^MiM. 


"T^ 


he 


BURNING  OF  ROBERT  ROGERS. 

Be  calm,  my  Delius,  and  serene, 

However  fortune  change  the  scene. 

In  thy  most  dejected  state, 

Sink  not  underneath  the  weight ; 

Nor  yet  when  happy  days  begin, 

And  the  full  tide  comes  rolling  in, 

Let  not  a  fierce  unruly  joy 

The  settled  quiet  of  thy  mind  destroy. 

However  fortune  change  the  scene. 

Be  calm,  my  Delius,  and  serene. — Hokaob. 


109 


THREE    NARRATIVES  s 

OP  EXCESSIVE  DISTRESS  OP  PERSONS  TAKEN  AT  THE  DE- 
STRUCTION OF  SALMON  PAI  LS,  IN  THE  STATE  OP  NEW 
HAMPSHIRE,  ON  THE  TWENTY-SEVENTH  OP  MARCH,  1690; 
VIZ.,  THE  CRUEL  TORTURE  OP  ROBERT  ROGERS,  THE  PIVE 
YEARS'  CAPTIVITY  OP  MEHETABLE  GOODWIN,  AND  THE 
PORTUNATE  ESCAPE  OP  THOMAS  TOOGOOD.  PROM  THE 
MAGNALIA  CHRISTI  AMERICANA,  OP  DOCTOR  COTTON 
MATHER. 

When  the  news  of  the  destruction  of  Schenectady  reached 
New  England,  it  spread  great  alarm  over  the  whole  country. 
The  wise  men  gave  particular  caution  to  all  the  frontier  posts, 
urging  them  to  keep  strict  watch,  and  to  make  strong  their 
fortifications ;  but  the  people  in  the  east  did  not  their  duty, 
and  Salmon  Falls,  a  fine  settlement  upon  a  branch  of  Pascat- 
aqua  river,  fell  into  the  hands  of  an  infuriated  and  cruel  enemy ; 
the  particulars  whereof  are  at  large  set  forth  in  the  work  enti- 
tled The  Book  of  the  Indians,  to  which  we  have  before  re- 
ferred. 

But,  as  has  been  observed,  notwithstanding  these  warnings 
the  people  dreamed,  that  while  the  deep  snow  of  the  winter 
continued,  they  were  safe  enough,  which  proved  as  vain  as  a 
dream  of  a  dry  summer.  Near  thirty  persons  were  slain,  and, 
more  than  fifty  were  led  into  what  the  reader  will  by  and  by 
call  the  worst  captivity  in  the  world.  It  would  be  a  lon^  story 
to  tell  what  a  particular  share  in  this  calamity  fell  to  the  lot  of 
the  family  of  one  Clement  Short.  This  honest  man  wiih  his 
pious  wife  and  three  children  were  killed,  and  six  or  seven 
others  of  their  children  were  made  prisoners.  The  most  of 
these  arrived  safe  at  Canada,  through  a  thousand  hardships, 
and  the  most  of  these  were  with  more  than  a  thousand  mei-^ 

10 


ll 


in 


\  i 


no 


BURNING  OF  ROBERT  ROGERS. 


cies  afterwards  redeemed  from  Canada,  and  returned  unto 
their  English  friends  again.  But  as  we  cannot  take  notice  of 
all  the  individuals,  we  will  pass  to  the  notice  of  those  named 
at  the  commencement  of  this  narrative. 

Among  the  prisoners  was  one  Robert  Rogers,  with  whom  as 
the  Indians  journeyed  they  came  to  a  hill,  where  this  man, 
(being  through  his  corpulency  called  Robin  Pork)  being  under 
such  an  intolerable  and  unsupportable  burden  of  Indian  lug- 
gage, was  not  so  able  to  travel  as  the  rest ;  he  therefore, 
watching  for  an  opportunity,  made  his  escape.  The  wretches 
missing  him,  immediately  went  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  they  found  his  burden  cast  in  the  way,  and  the 
tracks  of  his  feet  going  out  of  the  way.  This  they  followed, 
and  found  him  hid  in  a  hollow  tree.  They  dragged  him  out, 
%K  stripped  him,  beat  and  pricked  him,  pushed  him  ^rward  with 
the  points  of  their  swords,  until  they  got  back  to  the  hill  from 
whence  he  had  escaped.  It  being  almost  night,  they  fastened 
him  to  a  tree,  with  his  hands  behind  him,  then  made  them- 
selves a  supper,  singing  and  dancing  around  him,  roaring,  and 
uttering  great  and  many  signs  of  joy,  but  with  joy  little  enough 
to  the  poor  creature  who  foresaw  what  all  this  tended  to. 

The  Indians  next  cut  a  parcel  of  wood,  and  bringing  it  into  a 
plain  place,  they  cut  off  the  top  of  a  small  red-oak  tree,  leaving 
the  trunk  for  a  stake,  whereunto  they  bound  their  sacrifice. 
They  first  made  a  great  fire  near  this  tree  of  death,  and 
bringing  Rogers  unto  it,  bid  him  take  his  leave  of  his  friends, 
which  he  did  in  a  doleful  manner,  such  as  no  pen,  though 
made  of  a  harpy's  quill,  were  able  to  describe  the  dolor  of  it. 
They  then  allowed  him  a  little  time  to  make  his  prayers  unto 
heaven,  which  he  did  with  an  extreme  fervency  and  agony; 
whereupon  they  bound  him  to  the  stake,  and  brought  the  rest  of 
the  prisoners,  with  their  arms  tied  each  to  the  other,  and  seat- 
ed them  round  the  fire.  This  being  done,  they  went  behind 
the  fire,  and  thrust  it  forwards  upon  the  man  with  much  laugh- 
ter and  shouting  ;  and  when  the  fire  had  burnt  some  time  upon 
him,  even  till  he  was  almost  suffocated,  they  pulled  away  from 
him,  to  prolong  his  existence.  They  now  resumed  their  dan- 
cing around  him,  and  at  every  turn  they  did  with  their  knives 
cut  coUops  of  his  flesh  out  of  his  naked  limbs,  and  throw  them 
with  his  blood  into  his  face.  In  this  manner  was  their  work 
continued  until  he  expired. 

Being  now  dead,  they  set  his  body  down  upon  the  glowing 
coals  of  fire,  and  thus  left  him  tied  with  his  back  to  the  stake, 
where  he  was  found  by  some  English  forces  soon  after,  who 
were  in  pursuit  of  these  Indians.  ^ 


Mi 
of  Ini 
nown 
montl 
unabl< 
ous  ar 
that  if 
which 
ship* 
it  from 
up  to  I 
it  was 
days  p 
travel 
should 
babe  01 
out  its 
hitherto 
the  bloo 
sad  and 
neck  in 
lay  it  in 
for  now 
had  been 
again,  if 
The  Jc 
far  as  Ca 
make  me 
happy   ti( 
want  of  ] 
countered 
difficulties 
with  man^ 
soul,  she  i 
ous   exect 
the  devil  i 
bestow  a  n 
this  poor  Ci 
knees,  and 
agony  and 
longer,  and 

*  One  of 
among  the  In 

^j  I  need  noi 


■^: 


MEHETABLE  GOODWIN. 


Ill 


ntoa 
.ving 
ifice. 
and 
nds, 
ugh 
,f  it. 
unto 
|ony ; 
\st  of 
Iseat- 
thind 
lugh- 
lupon 
Ifrom 
I  dan- 
lives 
Ithem 
Iwork 

Iwing 

Vake, 

who 


Mbhbtablb  Goodwin,  another  of  the  captives  of  this  hand 
of  Indians,  who,  it  will  be  proper  to  notice,  were  led  by  the  re- 
nowned Indian  chief  Hopenood,had  a  child  with  her  about  five 
months  old.     This,  through  hunger  and  hardship,  she  being 
unable  to  nourish  from  her  breast,  occasioned  it  to  make  griev- 
ous and  distressing  ejaculations.     Her  Indian  master  told  her 
that  if  the  child  were  not  quiet  he  would  soon  dispose  of  it, 
which  caused  her  to  use  all  possible  means  that  his  Nttop- 
ship*  might  not  be  offended  ;  and  sometimes  she  would  carry 
it  from  the  fire  out  of  his  hearing,  when  she  would  sit  down 
up  to  her  waist  in  the  snow,  for  several  hours  together,  until 
it  was  exhausted  and  lulled  to  sleep.     She  thus  for  several 
days  preserved  the  life  of  her  babe,  until  he  saw  cause  to 
travel   with  his  own  cubs  farther  afield  ;  and  then,  lest  he 
should  be  retarded  in  his  travel,  he  violently  snatched  the 
babe  out  of  its  mother's  arms,  and  before  her  face  knocked 
out  its  brains ;  and  having  stripped  it  of  its  few  rags  it  had 
hitherto  enjoyed,  ordered  the  mother  to  go  and  wash  them  of 
the  blood  wherewith  they  were  stained !     Reluming  from  this 
sad  and  melancholy  task,  she  found  the  infant  hanging  by  the 
neck  in  a  forked  bough  of  a  tree.     She  requested  liberty  to 
lay  it  in  the  earth,  but  the  savage  said,  "  It  is  better  as  it  is, 
for  now  the  wild  beasts  cannot  come  at  it ; "  [I  am  sure  they 
had  been  at  it  ;]t  *'  and  you  may  have  the  comfort  of  seeing  it 
again,  if  ever  you  come  that  way." 

The  journey  now  before  them  was  like  to  be  very  long,  as 
far  as  Canada,  where  Mrs.  Goodwin's  master's  purpose  was  to 
make  merchandise  of  her,  and  glad  was  she  to  hear  such 
happy  tidings.  But  the  desperate  length  of  the  way,  and 
want  of  food,  and  grief  of  mind,  wherewith  she  was  now  en- 
countered, caused  her  within  a  few  days  to  faint  under  her 
difficulties ;  when,  at  length,  she  sat  down  for  some  repose, 
with  many  prayers  and  tears  unto  God  for  the  salvation  of  her 
soul,  she  found  herself  unable  to  rise,  until  she  saw  her  furi- 
ous executioner  coming  towards  her  with  fire  in  his  eyes, 
the  devil  in  his  heart,  and  his  hatchet  in  his  hand,  ready  to 
bestow  a  mercy-stroke  of  death  upon  her.  Then  it  was  that 
this  poor  captive  woman,  in  this  extreme  misery,  got  upon  her 
knees,  and  with  weeping  and  wailing  and  all  expressions  of 
agony  and  entreaty,  prevailed  on  him  to  spare  her  life  a  little 
longer,  and  she  did  not  question  but  God  would  enable  her  to 

*  One  of  Dr.  Mather's  miserable  misapplications  of  words.  NetoP| 
among  the  Indians,  signified /nentj!. — Ed. 

1 1  need  not  remind  the  reader  that  this  is  no  interpretation  of  mine. — 


\i 


I 


•5. 


A    i ' 


112 


THOMAS  TOOOOOD. 


* 


{ 


walk  a  little  faster.  The  merciless  tyrant  was  prevailed  with 
to  spare  her  this  time ;  nevertheless  her  former  weakness 
quickly  returning  upon  her,  he  was  just  going  to  rnuruer  her, 
when  a  couple  of  Indians,  just  at  this  momeni  c.nuJiig  in, 
called  suddenly  upon  him  to  hold  his  hand.  At  this  such  a 
horror  surprised  his  guilty  soul,  that  he  ran  away  from  her ; 
but  hearing  'lem  call  his  name,  he  returned,  and  then  permit- 
ted iheHc  his  friends  to  ransom  his  prisoner. 

After  these  events,  as  we  were  seated  by  the  side  of  a  river, 
we  heard  several  guns  go  off  on  the  opposite  side,  which  the 
Indians  concluded  was  occasioned  by  a  party  of  Albany  Indians, 
who  were  their  enemies.  Whereupon  this  bold  blade  [her  old 
master]  would  needs  go  in  a  canoe  to  discover  what  they  ^v  ore. 
They  fired  upon  and  shot  him  through,  together  wiih  ••pa-  r.J 
of  his  friends,  before  the  discovery  could  be  made.  Some 
days  after  this,  divers  of  his  friends  gathered  a  party  to  re- 
venge his  death  on  their  supposed  enemies.  With  these  they 
soon  joined  battle,  and  after  several  hours*  hard  fighting  were 
themselves  put  to  the  rout.  Among  the  captives  which  they 
left  in  their  flight  was  this  poor  woman,  who  was  overjoyed, 
supposing  herself  now  at  liberty  ;  but  her  joy  did  not  last  long, 
for  these  Indians  were  of  the  same  sort  as  the  others,  and  had 
been  by  their  own  friends,  thus  through  a  strange  mistake,  set 
upon. 

However,  this  crew  proved  more  favorable  to  her  than  the 
former,  and  went  away  silently  with  their  booty ;  being  loath 
to  have  any  noise  made  of  their  foul  mistake.  And  yet  a  few 
days  after,  such  another  mistake  happened ;  for  meeting  with 
another  party  of  Indians,  which  they  imagined  were  in  the 
English  mterest,  the)  also  furiously  engaged  each  other,  and 
many  were  killed  and  wounded  on  both  sides  ;  but  the  con- 
querors proved  to  be  a  party  of  French  Indians  this  time,  who 
took  this  poor  Mrs.  Goodwm  and  presented  her  to  the  French 
captain  of  tha  party,  by  whom  she  was  carried  to  Canada, 
where  she  continued  five  years.  After  vvhlcli  tihe  was  brought 
safely  back  to  New  England. 

Thomas  Toogood's  short  narrative  is  introduced  to  relieve 
the  reader  from  the  contemplation  of  blood  and  misery.  At 
the  same  time  the  other  captives  were  taken,  three  Indians 
hotly  pursued  this  man,  and  one  of  them  overtaking  him,  while 
*he  rpst  perceiving  it,  staid  behind  the  hill,  having  seen  him 
quif'iiy  yield  himself  a  prisoner.  While  the  Indian  was  get- 
titig  out  his  .strings  to  bind  his  prisoner,  he  held  his  gun  under 
liis  arm,  which  Toogood  observing,  suddenly  sprang  and 
wrested  it  from  him ;  and  momentarily  presenting  it  at  the 


Indiai 
noise, 
readei 
poor 
withoi 
him  o( 
for  th( 
Indian^ 
at  the 
ted,  or 

Mar 

that  tim 
ferings 
sickness 
she  was 
length 
cruel  rnd 
river  ! 


GOD'S 


EXEMPLI! 

RANGE 

OP  KN( 

WHO   W 

MAID-SF 

THE  VE 

mouth,  am 

delphia:  r 

next  the  B 

nuiufier  of 

Rags. 

[i:>'Thise( 

at  Dover,  IV 

of  17SP      Th 

Wents  m  taei 

Fariiv  -  upon 

some  OCT  hi  ill 

son  -Hjniiy.  , 

Jav.   jeen  taki 

happened  on  t 

"wr  to  the  Ne 

Chronology  as 


ELBAnKTH  HANSONS  CAPTIVITV. 


113 


Indian,  protested  ho  wnnu    l       ,  . 

"oi«.  /nd  »o  .r.;  ho  ?;„'':i'"'"  <''>""  'f  Pomade  the  le.„ 
reader  be  now  i„ -li^ed  to"?,,!!     'I  ""'."  Q-^hecho.     If  " 
poor  Tsgtim  Innb,.,,   :..." '•.""''^' "'''en  he  think,  h^...  JL"\y 


reader  b;-;;;":   ^  "tj""  ll""  'i  ""'»  Q-'^h    h;     If'™ 

£he?a  t:iS  iS^^^^^^^^^    ff - 

'ed^or  have  been  guiity  of  rnti.'.inrLrblu'Jdr '^  °"«'- 

'ha^'ime  Tnd'S,  bm  ^X'^f"'  "•«  ."•"■««""".«  captives  a, 
fenngs  are  related  sL  ft  i.  "  Pan'^ulara  of  extrem.  If 
•ickncss  but  three  weft'  tt^l"  »"'  "f  h"  bed  „77amSt 


EXEMPLIFIED  IIV  THP  r^inmw, 

RANGE  OP  RlJ^BETH  ri^'^'^  ^^^  SURPRISING   DET  iv.. 

ICT"  Thh  edition  of  Mrs  Wo„o     . 

Fannr-  unon  tho  ^^       ^  ^^-  extract,  in  th».  hLr^A      ■  ■      "°  disagree- 

som.  ««"nn  tis  S  1"  '^"P^  °f  'h«  Dover  edSTt"r  °^  J^''-  ^^^^ 
^  %mi!y     for  iJr?K  .^^°"t  the  exact  date  of  thT'     f^^"^  ^''^•■e  was 

bav.  Te7,4ken  AJ'lSi  r'"'''"^"^""*  aWe  mention?^"''  ""^'^^  H^'^' 
hamned  orthcT^  V'r^  P'^'^^^n  News-Letterof  1790  ?f^'  Purporting  to 
J^feTto  the  New,  T  !f  °^,'*"f"«t  of  that  vear  T  S  "  "  ''*'«^  '^  have 
ChronologtMh;n  "'"'''  ^ut  Yfind  the  evem  LiL^'' V'  '^»  able  to 
logy  as  happe.,uig  on  the  7th  <^  SlpTem^be'r"  ^^^^^^^ 


im 


114 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


doubt  of  the  correctness  of  the  date  in  the  narrative,  myself,  but  mention 
the  fact,  that  some  brother  antiquary  may  have  the  pleasure  which  may 
accrue  from  an  investigation. — Ed. 


I 


Remakkable  and  many  are  the  providences  of  God  towards 
his  people  for  their  deliverance  in  a  time  of  trouble,  by  which 
we  may  behold,  as  in  lively  characters,  the  truth  of  that  saying, 
"  That  he  is  a  God  near  at  hand,  and  always  ready  to  help  and 
assist  those  that  fear  him  and  put  their  confidence  in  him." 

The  sacred  writings  give  us  instances  of  the  truth  hereof  in 
days  of  old,  as  in  the  cases  of  the  Israelites,  Job,  David,  Dan- 
iel, Paul,  Silas,  and  many  others.  Besides  which,  our  modern 
histories  have  plentifully  abounded  with  instances  of  God's, 
fatherly  care  over  his  people,  in  their  sharpest  trials,  deepest 
distresses,  and  sorest  exercises,  by  which  we  may  know  he  is 
a  God  that  changeth  not,  but  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and 
forever. 

Among  the  many  modern  instances,  I  think  I  have  not  met 
with  a  more  singular  one  of  the  mercy  and  preserving  hand  of 
God,  than  in  the  case  of  Elizabeth  Hanson,  wife  of  John 
Hanson,  of  Knoxmarsh,*  in  Kecheachy,  [Cochecho]  in  Dover 
township,  in  New  England,  who  was  taken  into  captivity  the 
twenty-seventh  day  of  the  sixth  month,  called  June,  1724,  and 
carried  away  (with  four  children  and  a  servant)  by  the  Indians; 
which  relation,  as  it  was  taken  from  her  own  mouth,  by  a  friend, 
is  as  follows: 

As  soon  as  the  Indians  discovered  themselves,  (having,  as  we 
afterwards  understood,  been  skulking  in  the  fields  some  days, 
watching  their  opportunity,  when  my  dear  husband,  with  the 
rest  of  our  men,  were  gone  out  of  the  way,)  two  of  them  came 
in  upon  us,  and  then  eleven  more,  all  naked,  with  their  guns 
and  tomahawks,  and  in  a  great  fury  killed  one  child  immedi- 
ately, as  soon  as  they  entered  the  door,  thinking  thereby  to 
strike  in  us  the  greater  terror,  and  to  make  us  more  fearful  of 
them.  After  which,  in  like  fury,  the  captain  came  up  to  me ; 
but  at  my  request  he  gave  me  quarter.  There  were  with  me 
our  servant  and  six  of  our  children  ;  two  of  the  little  ones  being 
at  play  about  the  orchard,  and  my  youngest  child,  but  fourteen 
days  old,  whether  in  cradle  or  arms,  I  now  remember  not. 
Being  in  this  condition,  I  was  very  unfit  for  the  hardships  1 
after  met  with,  which  I  shall  endeavor  briefly  to  relate. 

They  went  to  rifling  the  house  in  a  great  hurry,  (fearing,  as 
I  suppose,  a  surprise  from  our  people,  it  being  late  in  the  after- 
noon,) and  packed  up  some  linen,  woollen  and  what  other 

*  A  name,  the  use  of  which  was  long  since  discontinued. — Ed.  . 


no  resisi 

In  thi 

having  s 

could  go 

a  load  as 

for  all  th 

be  a  favo 

and  some 

like  a  ror 

We  go 

house  in 

fire,  some 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


115 


things  pleased  them  best,  and  when  they  had  done  what  they 
would,  they  turned  out  of  the  house  immediately ;  and  while 
they  were  at  the  door,  two  of  my  younger  children,  one  six, 
and  the  other  four  years  old,  came  in  sight,  and  being  under 
a  great  surprise,  cried  aloud,  upon  which  one  of  the  Indians 
running  to  them,  took  them  under  the  arms,  and  brought  them 
to  us.  My  maid  prevailed  with  the  biggest  to  be  quiet  and 
still ;  but  the  other  could  by  no  means  be  prevailed  with,  but 
continued  shrieking  and  crying  very  much,  and  the  Indians,  to 
ease  themselves  of  the  noise,  and  to  prevent  the  danger  of  a 
discovery  that  might  arise  from  it,  immediately,  before  my  face, 
knocked  his  brains  out.  I  bore  this  as  well  as  I  could,  not 
daring  to  appear  disturbed  or  to  show  much  uneasiness,  lest 
they  should  do  the  same  to  the  others  ;  but  should  have  been 
exceeding  glad  if  they  had  kept  out  of  sight  until  we  had  gone 
from  the  house. 

Now  having  killed  two  of  my  children,  they  scalped  them, 
(a  practice  common  with  these  people,  which  is,  whenever  they 
kill  any  enemies,  they  cut  the  skin  off  from  the  crown  of  their 
heads,  and  carry  it  with  them  for  a  testimony  and  evidence 
that  they  have  killed  so  many,  receiving  sometimes  a  reward 
for  every  scalp,)  and  then  put  forward  to  leave  the  house  in 
great  haste,  without  doing  any  other  spoil  than  taking  what 
they  had  packed  together,  with  myself  and  little  babe,  fourteen 
days  old,  the  boy  six  years,  and  two  daughters,  the  one  about 
fourteen  and  the  other  about  sixteen  years,  with  my  servant 

girl. 

It  must  be  considered,  that  I  having  lain  in  but  fourteen  days, 
and  being  but  very  tender  and  weakly,  and  removed  now  out 
of  a  good  room,  well  accommodated  with  fire,  bedding,  and 
other  things  suiting  a  person  in  my  condition,  it  made  these 
hardships  to  me  greater  than  if  I  had  been  in  a  strong  and 
healthy  frame ;  yet,  tor  all  this,  I  must  go  or  die.  There  was 
no  resistance. 

In  this  condition  aforesaid  we  left  the  house,  each  Indian 
having  something ;  and  I  with  my  babe  and  three  children  that 
could  go  of  themselves.  The  captain,  though  he  had  as  great 
a  load  as  he  could  well  carry,  and  was  helped  up  with  it,  did, 
for  all  that,  carry  my  babe  for  me  in  his  arms,  which  I  took  to 
be  a  favor  from  him.  Thus  we  went  through  several  swamps 
and  some  brooks,  they  carefully  avoiding  all  paths  of  any  track 
like  a  road,  lest  by  our  footsteps  we  should  be  followed. 

We  got  that  night,  I  suppose,  not  quite  ten  miles  from  our 
liouse  in  a  direct  line ;  then  taking  up  their  quarters,  lighted  a 
fire,  some  of  them  lying  down,  while  others  kept  watch.     I 


116 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


being  both  wet  and  weary,  and  lying  on  the  cold  ground  in  the 
open  woods,  took  but  little  rest. 

However,  early  in  the  morning,  we  must  go  just  as  the  day 
appeared,  travelling  very  hard  all  that  day  through  sundry 
rivers,  brooks  and  swamps,  they,  as  before,  carefully  avoiding 
all  paths  for  the  reason  already  assigned.  At  night,  I  was  botl* 
wet  and  tired  exceedingly ;  havinr  the  same  lodging  on  the 
cold  ground,  in  the  open  woods,  /hus,  for  twenty-six  days, 
day  by  day  we  travelled  very  hard,  sometimes  a  little  by  water, 
over  lakes  and  ponds  ;  and  in  this  journey  we  went  up  some 
high  mountains,  so  steep  that  I  was  forced  to  creep  up  on  my 
hards  and  knees ;  under  which  difficulty,  the  Indian,  my  mas- 
ter, would  mostly  carry  my  babe  for  me,  which  I  took  as  a 
great  favor  of  God,  that  his  heart  was  so  tenderly  inclined  to 
assist  me,  though  he  had,  as  it  is  said,  a  very  heavy  burden 
of  his  own ;  nay,  he  would  sometimes  take  mv  very  blanket, 
so  that  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  take  my  little  boy  by  the 
hand  for  his  help,  and  assist  him  as  well  as  I  could,  taking  him 
up  in  my  arms  a  little  at  times,  because  so  small  j  and  when 
we  came  to  very  bad  places,  he  would  lend  me  his  hand,  or 
coming  behind,  would  push  me  before  him ;  in  all  which,  he 
showed  some  humanity  and  civility,  more  than  I  could  have 
expected :  for  which  privilege  I  was  secretly  thankful  to  God, 
as  the  moving  cause  thereof. 

Next  to  this  we  had  some  very  great  runs  of  water  and 
brooks  to  wade  through,  in  v/hich  at  times  we  met  with  much 
difficulty,  wading  often  to  our  middles,  and  sometimes  our  girls 
were  up  to  their  shoulders  and  chins,  the  Indians  carrying  my 
boy  on  their  shoulders.  At  the  side  of  one  of  these  runs  or 
rivers,  the  Indians  would  have  my  eldest  daughter,  Sarah,  to 
sing  them  a  song.  Then  was  brought  into  her  remembrance 
that  passage  in  the  137th  Psalm,  "  By  the  rivers  of  Babylon," 
[&c.]  When  my  poor  child  had  given  me  this  account,  it  was 
very  affecting,  and  my  heart  was  very  full  of  trouble,  yet  on 
my  child's  account  I  was  glad  that  she  had  so  good  an  incli- 
nation, which  she  yet  further  manifested  in  loiij^ing  for  a  Bible, 
that  we  might  have  the  comfort  of  reading  the  holy  text  at 
vacant  times,  for  our  spiritual  comfort  under  our  present  afflic- 
tion. 

Next  to  the  difficulties  of  the  rivers,  v/ere  the  prodigious 
swamps  and  thickets,  very  difficult  to  pass  through,  in  which 
places  my  master  would  sometimes  lead  me  by  the  hand,  a 
great  way  together,  and  give  me  what  help  he  was  capable  of, 
under  the  straits  we  went  through;  and  we,  passing,  one 
after  another,  the  first  made  it  pretty  passable  for  the  hindmost. 

But  tlie  greatest  difficulty,  that  deserves  the  first  to  be  namedt 


A 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S    CAPTIVITY. 


117 


l;  W'' 


to 


IC- 


was  want  of  food,  having  at  times  nothing  to  eat  but  pieces  of 
old  beaver-skin  match-coats,  which  the  Indians  having  hid,  (for 
they  came  naked  as  is  said  before,)  which  in  their  going  back 
again  they  took  with  them,  and  they  were  used  more  for  food 
than  raiment.  Being  cut  into  long  narrow  straps,  they  gave 
us  little  pieces,  which  by  the  Indians'  example  we  laid  on  the 
fire  until  the  hair  was  singed  away,  and  then  we  ale  them  as 
a  sweet  morsel,  experimentally  knowing  "  that  to  the  hungry 
soul  every  bitter  thing  is  sweet." 

It  is  to  be  considered  further,  that  of  this  poor  diet  we  had 
but  very  scanty  allowance ;  so  that  we  were  in  no  danger  of 
being  overcharged.  But  that  which  added  to  my  trouble,  was 
the  complaints  of  my  poor  children,  especially  the  little  boy. 
Sometimes  the  Indians  would  catch  a  squirrel  or  beaver,  and 
at  other  times  we  met  with  nuts,  berries,  and  roots  which  they 
digged  out  of  the  ground,  with  the  bark  of  some  trees  ;  but  we 
had  no  corn  for  a  great  while  together,  though  some  of  the 
younger  Indians  went  back  and  brought  some  corn  from  the 
English  inhabitants,  (the  harvest  not  being  gathered,)  of  which 
we  had  a  little  allowed  us.  But  when  they  caught  a  beaver, 
we  lived  high  while  it  lasted ;  they  allowed  me  the  guts  and 
garbage  for  myself  and  children  ;  but  not  allowing  us  to  clean 
and  wash  them,  as  they  ought,  made  the  food  very  irksome  to 
us  to  feed  upon,  and  nothing  besides  pinching  hunger  could 
have  made  it  any  way  tolerable  to  be  borne. 

The  next  difficulty  was  no  less  hard  to  me ;  for  my  daily 
travel  and  hard  living  made  my  milk  dry  almost  quite  up,  and 
how  to  preserve  my  poor  babe's  life  was  no  small  care  on  my 
mind ;  having  no  other  sustenance  for  her,  many  times,  but 
cold  water,  which  I  took  in  my  mouth,  and  let  it  fall  on  my 
breast,  when  I  gave  her  the  teat  to  suck  in,  with  what  k  could 
get  from  the  breast ;  and  when  I  had  any  of  the  broth  of  the 
beaver's  guts,  or  other  guts,  I  fed  my  babe  with  it,  at^^pi^c^i 
as  I  could  I  preserved  her  life  until  I  got  to  Canada,  i^tht^th^n 
I  had  some  other  food,  of  which,  more  in  its  place. 

Having  by  this  time  got  considerably  on  the  w^ay,  the  Indians 
parted,  and  v/e  were  divided  amongst  them.  This  was  a  sore 
giief  to  us  all ;  but  we  must  submit,  and  no  way  to  help  our- 
selves. My  eldest  daughter  was  first  taken  away,  and  carried 
to  another  part  of  the  country,  far  distant  from  us,  where  for 
the  present  we  must  take  leave  of  her,  though  with  a  heavy 
heart. 

We  did  not  travel  far  after  this,  before  they  divided  again, 
taking  my  second  daughter  and  servant  maid,  from  me,  into 
another  part  of  the  country.  So,  I  having  now  only  my  babe 
at  my  breast,  and  little  boy  six  years  old,  we  remained  with 


118 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


, 


the  captain  still.  But  my  daughter  and  servant  underwent 
great  hardships  after  they  were  parted  from  me,  travelling  three 
days  without  any  food,  taking  nothing  for  support  but  cold 
water ;  and  the  third  day,  what  with  the  cold,  the  wet,  and 
hunger,  the  servant  fell  down  as  dead  in  a  swoon,  being  both 
very  cold  and  wet,  at  which  the  Indians,  with  whom  they  were, 
were  surprised,  showing  some  kind  of  tenderness,  being  unwil- 
ling then  to  lose  them  by  death,  having  got  them  so  near  home ; 
hoping,  if  they  lived,  by  their  ransom  to  make  considerable 
profit  of  them. 

In  a  few  days  after  this,  they  got  near  their  journey's  end, 
where  they  had  more  plenty  of  corn,  and  other  food.  But 
flesh  often  fell  very  short,  having  no  other  way  to  depend  on 
for  it  but  hunting;  and  when  that  failed,  they  had  very  short 
commons.  It  was  not  long  ere  my  daughter  and  servant  were 
likewise  parted,  and  my  daughter's  master  being  sick,  was  not 
able  to  hunt  for  flesh  ;  neither  had  they  any  corn  in  that  place, 
but  were  forced  to  eat  bark  of  trees  for  a  whole  week. 

Being  almost  famished  in  this  distress,  Providence  so  order- 
ed that  some  other  Indians,  hearing  of  their  misery,  came  to 
visit  them,  (these  people  being  very  kind  and  helpful  to  one 
another,  which  is  very  commendable,)  and  brought  to  them  the 
guts  and  liver  of  a  beaver,  which  aflbrdcd  them  a  good  repast, 
being  but  four  in  number,  the  Indian,  his  wife  and  daughter,  and 
my  daughter. 

By  this  time  my  master  and  our  company  got  to  our  jour- 
ney's end,  where  we  were  better  fed  at  times,  having  some 
corn  and  venison,  and  wild  fowl,  or  what  they  could  catch  by 
hunting  in  the  woods  ;  and  my  master  having  a  large  family, 
fifteen  in  number,  we  had  at  times  very  short  commons,  more 
especially  when  game  was  scarce. 

But  here  our  lodging  was  still  on  the  cold  ground,  in  a  poor 
wigwam,  (which  is  a  kind  of  little  shelter  made  with  the  rind 
of  trees,  and  mats  for  a  covering,  something  like  a  tent.)  These 
are  so  easily  set  up  and  taken  down,  that  they  often  remove 
them  from  one  place  to  another.  Our  shoes  and  stockings, 
and  our  other  clothes,  being  worn  out  in  this  long  journey 
through  the  bushes  and  swamps,  and  the  Aveather  coming  in 
very  hard,  we  were  poorly  defended  from  the  cold,  for  want 
of  necessaries ;  which  caused  one  of  my  feet,  one  of  the  little 
babe's,  anH  both  of  the  little  boy's,  to  freeze ;  and  this  was  no 
small  exercise,  yet,  through  mercy,  we  all  did  well. 

Now,  though  we  got  to  our  journey's  end,  we  were  never 
long  in  one  place,  but  very  often  removed  from  one  place  to 
another,  carrying  our  wigwams  with  us,  which  we  could  do 
without  much  difliculty.     This,  being  fcr  the  convenience  of 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


119 


to 

I  do 

of 


hunting,  made  our  accommodations  much  more  unpleasant, 
than  if  we  had  continued  in  one  place,  hy  reason  the  coldness 
and  dampness  of  the  ground,  where  our  wigwams  were  pitch- 
ed, made  it  very  unwholesome,  and  unpleasant  lodging. 

Having  now  got  to  the  Indian  fort,  many  of  the  Indians 
came  to  visit  us,  and  in  their  way  welcomed  my  master  home, 
and  held  a  great  rejoicing,  with  dancing,  firing  of  guns,  heating 
on  hollow  trees,  instead  of  drums  ;  shouting,  drinking,  and  feast- 
ing after  their  manner,  in  much  excess,  for  several  days  together, 
which  I  suppose,  in  their  thoughts,  was  a  kind  of  thanks  to 
God,  put  up  for  their  safe  return  and  good  success.  But  while 
they  were  in  their  jollity  and  mirth,  my  mind  was  greatly  ex- 
ercised towards  the  Lord,  that  I,  with  my  dear  children,  sepa- 
rated from  me,  might  he  preserved  from  repining  against  God 
under  our  afhiction  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  we 
might  have  our  dependence  on  him,  who  rules  the  hearts  of 
men,  and  can  do  what  he  pleases  in  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
knowing  that  his  care  is  over  them  who  put  their  trust  in  him  j 
but  I  found  it  very  hard  to  keep  my  mind  as  I  ought,  in  the 
resignation  which  is  proper  it  should  be,  under  such  afflictions 
and  sore  trials  as  at  that  time  I  suffered  in  being  under  various 
fears  and  doubts  concerning  my  children,  that  were  separated 
from  me,  which  helped  to  add  to  and  greatly  increase  my 
troubles.  And  here  I  may  truly  say,  my  afflictions  are  not  to 
be  set  forth  in  words  to  the  extent  of  them. 

We  had  not  been  long  at  home  ere  my  master  went  a  hunt- 
ing, and  was  absent  about  a  week,  he  ordering  me  in  his 
absence  to  get  in  wood,  gather  nuts,  &c.  I  was  very  diligent 
cutting  the  wood  and  putting  it  in  order,  not  having  very  far 
to  carry  it.  But  when  he  returned,  having  got  no  prey,  he 
was  very  much  out  of  humor,  and  the  disappointment  was  so 
great  that  he  could  not  forbear  revenging  it  on  us  poor  cap- 
tives. However,  he  allowed  me  a  little  boiled  corn  for  myself 
and  child,  but  with  a  very  angry  look  threw  a  stick  or  corn  cob 
at  me  with  such  violence  as  did  bespeak  he  grudged  our  eat- 
ing. At  this  his  squaw  and  daughter  broke  out  into  a  great 
crying.  This  made  me  fear  mischief  was  hatching  against  us. 
I  immediately  went  out  of  his  presence  into  another  wig- 
wam ;  upon  which  he  came  after  me,  and  in  a  great  fury  tore 
my  blanket  off  my  back,  and  took  my  little  boy  from  me, 
and  struck  him  down  as  he  went  along  before  him ;  but  the 
poor  child  not  being  hurt,  only  frightened  in  the  fall,  start- 
ed up  and  ran  away  without  crying.  Then  the  Indian,  my 
master,  left  me  ;  but  his  wife's  mother  came  and  sat  down  by 
me,  and  told  me  I  must  sleep  there  that  night.  She  then  going 
from  me  a  little  time,  came  back  with  a  small  skin  to  cover  my 


120 


ELIZABETH  HANSON  ci  CAPTIVITY. 


feet  withal,  informing  me  that  my  master  intended  now  to  kill  us, 
and  I,  being  desirous  to  know  the  reason,  expostulated,  that  in 
his  absence  I  had  been  diligent  to  do  as  I  was  ordered  by  him. 
Thus  as  well  as  I  could  I  made  her  sensible  how  unreason- 
able he  was.  Now,  though  she  could  not  understand  me,  nor 
I  her,  but  by  signs,  we  reasoned  as  well  as  we  could.  She 
therefore  made  signs  that  I  must  die,  advising  me,  by  point- 
ing up  with  her  fingers,  in  her  way,  to  pray  to  God,  endeavor- 
ing by  her  signs  and  tears  to  instruct  me  in  that  which  was 
most  needful,  viz.  to  prepare  for  death,  which  now  threatened 
me  :  the  poor  old  squaw  was  so  very  kind  and  tender,  that  she 
would  not  leave  me  all  the  night,  but  laid  herself  down  at  my 
feet,  designing  what  she  could  to  assuage  her  son-in-law's 
wrath,  who  had  conceived  evil  against  me,  chiefly,  as  I  under- 
stood, because  the  want  of  victuals  urged  him  to  it.  My  rest 
was  little  this  night,  my  poor  babe  sleeping  sweetly  by  me. 

I  dreaded  the  tragical  design  of  my  master,  looking  every 
hour  for  his  coming  to  execute  his  bloody  will  upon  us  ;  but 
he  being  weary  with  hunting  and  travel  in  the  woods,  having 
toiled  for  nothing,  went  to  rest  and  forgot  it.  Next  morning 
he  applied  himself  again  to  hunting  in  the  woods,  but  I  dread- 
ed his  returning  empty,  and  prayed  secretly  in  my  heart  that 
he  might  catch  some  food  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  and  cool  his 
ill  humor.  He  had  not  been  gone  but  a  little  time,  when  he 
returned  with  booty,  having  shot  some  wild  ducks ;  and  now 
he  appeared  in  a  better  temper,  ordered  the  fowls  to  be  dressed 
with  speed  ;  for  these  kind  of  people,  when  they  have  plenty, 
spend  it  as  freely  as  they  get  it,  using  with  gluttony  and 
drunkenness,  in  two  days'  time,  as  much  as  with  prudent  man- 
agement might  serve  a  week.  Thus  do  they  live  for  the  most 
part,  either  in  excess  of  gluttony  and  drunkenness,  or  under 
great  straits  of  want  of  necessaries.  However,  in  this  plenti- 
ful time,  I  felt  the  comfort  of  it  in  part  with  the  family  ;  hav- 
ing a  portion  sent  for  me  and  my  little  ones,  which  was  very 
acceptable.  Now,  I  thinking  the  bitterness  of  death  was  over 
for  this  time,  my  spirits  were  a  little  easier. 

Not  long  after  this  he  got  into  the  like  ill  humor  again, 
threatening  to  take  away  my  life.  But  I  always  observed 
whenever  he  was  in  such  a  temper,  he  wanted  food,  and  was 
pinched  with  hunger.  But  when  he  had  success  in  hunting, 
to  take  either  bears,  bucks,  or  fowls,  on  which  he  could  fill  his 
belly,  he  was  better  humored,  though  he  was  naturally  of  a 
very  hot  and  passionate  temper,  throwing  sticks,  stones,  or 
whatever  lay  in  his  way,  on  every  slight  occasion.  This  made 
me  in  continual  danger  of  my  life ;  but  God,  whose  provi- 
dence is  over  all  his  works,  so  preserved  me  that  I  never 


receivec 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S    CAPTIVITY. 


121 


received  any  damage  from  him,  that  was  of  any  great  conse- 
quence to  me  ;  for  which  I  ever  desire  to  be  thankful  to  my 
Maker. 

When  flesh  was  scarce  we  had  only  the  guts  and  garbage 
allowed  to  our  part ;  and  not  being  permitted  to  cleanse  the 
guts  any  other  wise  than  emptying  the  dung  [out],  without  so 
much  as  washing  them,  as  before  is  noted  ;  in  that  filthy  pickle 
we  must  boil  them  and  eat  them,  which  was  very  unpleasant. 
But  hunger  made .  up  that  difficulty,  so  that  this  food,  which 
was  very  often  our  lot,  became  pretty  tolerable  to  a  sharp  ap- 

5etite,  which  otherwise  could  not  nave  been  dispensed  with, 
'hus  I  considered,  none  knows  what  they  can  undergo  until 
they  are  tried ;  for  what  I  had  thought  in  my  own  family  not 
fit  for  food,  would  here  have  been  a  dainty  dish  and  sweet 
morsel. 

By  this  time,  what  with  fatigue  of  spirits,  hard  labor,  mean 
diet,  and  often  Want  of  natural  rest,  I  was  brought  so  low,  that 
my  milk  was  dried  up,  my  babe  very  poor  and  weak,  just  skin 
and  bones  ;  for  I  could  perceive  all  her  joints  from  one  end  of 
the  back  to  the  other,  and  how  to  get  what  would  suit  her 
weak  appetite,  I  was  at  a  loss ;  on  which  one  of  the  Indian 
squaws,  perceiving  my  uneasiness  about  my  child,  began  some 
discourse  with  me,  in  which  she  advised  me  to  take  the  ker- 
nels of  walnuts,  clean  them  and  beat  them  with  a  little  water, 
which  I  did,  and  when  I  had  so  done  the  water  looked  like 
milk ;  then  she  advised  me  to  add  to  this  water  a  little  of  the 
finest  of  Indian  corn  meal,  and  boil  it  a  little  together.  I  did 
so,  and  it  became  palatable,  and  was  very  nourishing  to  the 
babe,  so  that  she  began  to  thrive  and  look  well,  who  was  before 
more  like  to  die  than  live.  I  found  that  with  this  kind  of  diet 
the  Indians  did  often  nurse  their  infants.  This  was  no  small 
comfort  to  me  ;  but  this  comfort  was  soon  mixed  with  bitter- 
ness and  trouble,  which  thus  happened :  my  master  taking 
notice  of  my  dear  babe's  thriving  condition,  would  often  look 
upon  her  and  say  when  she  was  fat  enough  she  would  be 
killed,  and  he  would  eat  her ;  and  pursuant  to  his  pretence,  at  a 
certain  time,  he  made  me  fetch  him  a  stick  that  he  had  pre- 
pared for  a  spit  to  roast  the  child  upon,  as  he  said,  which  when 
I  had  done  he  made  me  sit  down  by  him  and  undress  the 
infant.  When  the  child  was  naked  he  felt  her  arms,  legs,  and 
thighs,  and  told  me  she  was  not  fat  enough  yet ;  I  must  dress 
her  again  until  she  was  better  in  case. 

Now,  though  he  thus  acted,  I  could  not  persuade  myself  that 
he  intended  to  do  as  he  pretended,  but  only  to  aggravate  and 
afflict  me  ;  neither  ever  could  I  think  but  our  lives  would  be 
preserved  from  his  barbarous  hands,  by  the  overruling  power 


^'    fl 


ssaaawsti 


132 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


of  Him  in  whose  providence  I  put  my  trust  both  day  and 
night. 

A  little  time  after  this,  my  master  fell  sick,  and  in  his  sick- 
ness, as  he  lay  in  his  wigwam,  he  ordered  his  own  son  to  beat 
my  son ;  but  the  old  squaw,  the  Indian  boy's  grandmother, 
would  not  suffer  hinj  »o  do  it :  then  his  father,  being  provoked, 
caught  up  a  stick,  very  sharp  at  one  end,  and  with  great  vio- 
lence threw  it  from  him  at  my  son,  and  hit  him  on  the  breast, 
with  which  my  child  was  much  bruised,  and  the  pain  with  the 
surprise  made  him  turn  as  pale  as  death  ;  I  entreating  him  not 
to  cry,  and  the  boy,  though  but  six  years  old,  bore  it  with  won- 
derful patience,  not  so  much  as  in  the  least  complaining,  so  that 
the  child's  patience  assuaged  the  barbarity  of  his  heart :  who, 
no  doubt,  would  have  carried  his  passion  and  resentment  much 
higher,  had  the  child  cried,  as  always  complaining  did  aggra- 
vate his  passion,  and  his  anger  grew  hotter  upon  it.  Some 
little  time  after,  on  the  same  day,  he  got  upon  his  feet,  but  far 
from  being  well.  However,  though  he  was  sick,  his  wife  and 
daughter  let  me  know  he  intended  to  kill  us,  and  I  was  under 
a  fear,  unless  providence  now  interposed,  how  it  would  end. 
I  therefore  put  down  my  child,  and  going  out  of  his  presence, 
went  to  cut  wood  for  the  fire  as  I  used  to  do,  hoping  that  would 
in  part  allay  his  passion  ;  but  withal,  ere  I  came  to  the  wig- 
wam again,  I  expected  my  child  would  be  killed  in  this  mad 
fit,  having  no  other  way  but  to  cast  my  care  upon  God,  who 
had  hitherto  helped  and  cared  for  me  and  mine. 

Under  this  great  feud,  the  old  squaw,  my  master's  moth- 
er-in-law, left  him,  but  my  mistress  and  her  daughter  abode 
in  the  wigwam  with  my  master,  and  when  I  came  with  my 
wood,  the  daughter  came  to  me,  whom  I  asked  if  her  father 
had  killed  my  child,  and  she  made  me  a  sign,  no,  with  a  counte- 
nance that  seemed  pleased  it  Avas  so ;  for  instead  of  his  further 
venting  his  passion  on  me  and  my  children,  the  Lord  in  whom 
I  trusted  did  seasonably  interpose,  and  I  took  it  as  a  merciful 
deliverance  from  him,  and  the  Indian  was  under  some  sense  of 
the  same,  as  himself  did  confess  to  them  about  him  after- 
wards. 

Thus  it  was,  a  little  after  he  got  upon  his  feet,  the  Lord 
struck  him  with  great  sickness,  and  a  violent  pain,  aa  appeared 
by  the  complaint  he  made  in  a  doleful  and  hideous  manner ; 
which  when  I  understood,  not  having  yet  seen  him,  I  went  to 
another  squaw,  that  was  come  to  see  my  master,  which  could 
both  speak  and  understand  English,  and  inquired  of  her  if 
my  mistress  (for  so  l  always  called  her,  and  him  master) 
thought  that  master  would  die.  She  answered  yes,  it  was  very 
likely  he  would,  being  worse  and  worse.     Then  I  told  her  he 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITy 


123 


Lord 
ired 
ler ; 


struck  my  boy  a  dreadful  blow  witbout  any  provocation  at 
all,  and  had  threatened  to  kill  us  all  in  his  fury  and  passion ; 
upon  which  the  squaw  told  me  my  master  had  confessed  the 
above  abuse  he  offered  my  chi-Id,  and  that  the  mischief  he  had 
done  was  the  cause  why  God  afflicted  him  with  that  sickness 
and  pain,  and  he  had  promised  never  to  abuse  us  in  such  sort 
more  :  and  after  this  ne  soon  recovered,  but  was  not  so  pas- 
sionate ;  nor  do  I  remember  he  ever  after  struck  either  me  or 
my  children,  so  as  to  hurt  us,  or  with  that  mischievous  intent 
as  before  he  used  to  do.  This  I  took  as  the  Lord's  doing,  and 
it  was  marvellous  in  my  eyes. 

Some  few  weeks  after  this,  my  master  made  another  re- 
move, having  as  before  made  several ;  but  this  was  the  longest 
ever  he  made,  it  being  two  days'  journey,  and  mostly  upon  ice. 
The  first  day's  journey  the  ice  was  bare,  but  the  next  day,  some 
snow  falling,  made  it  very  troublesome,  tedious,  and  difficult 
travelling ;  and  I  took  much  damage  in  often  falling ;  having 
the  care  of  my  babe,  that  added  not  a  little  to  my  uneasiness. 
And  the  last  night  when  we  came  to  encamp,  it  being  in  the 
night,  I  was  ordered  to  fetch  water ;  but  having  sat  awhile  on 
the  cold  ground,  I  could  neither  go  nor  stand ;  but  crawling 
on  my  hands  and  knees,  a  young  Indian  squaw  came  to  see 
our  people,  being  of  another  family,  in  compassion  took  the 
kettle,  and  knowing  where  to  go,  which  I  did  not,  fetched  the 
water ^for  me.  This  I  took  as  a  great  kindness  and  favor,  that 
her  heart  was  inclined  to  do  me  this  service. 

I  now  saw  the  design  of  this  journey.  My  master  being,  as 
I  suppose,  weary  to  keep  us,  was  willing  to  make  what  he 
could  of  our  ransom ;  therefore,  he  went  further  towards  the 
French,  and  left  his  family  in  this  place,  where  they  had  a 
great  dance,  sundry  other  Indians  coming  to  our  people.  This 
held  some  time,  and  while  they  were  in  it,  I  got  out  of  their 
way  in  a  corner  of  the  wigwam  as  well  [as]  I  could ;  but  every 
time  they  came  by  me  in  their  dancing,  they  would  bow  my 
head  towards  the  ground,  and  frequently  kick  me  with  as  great 
fury  as  they  could  bear,  being  sundry  of  them  barefoot,  and 
others  having  Indian  mockosons.  This  dance  held  some  time, 
and  they  made,  in  their  manner,  great  rejoicings  and  noise. 

It  was  not  many  days  ere  my  master  returned  from  the 
French ;  but  he  was  in  such  a  humor  when  he  came  back,  he 
would  not  suffer  me  in  his  presence.  Therefore  I  had  a  little 
shelter  made  with  some  boughs,  they  having  digged  through 
the  snow  to  the  ground,  it  being  prettUdeep.  In  this  hole  I 
and  my  poor  children  were  put  to  lod^ ;  the  weather  being 
very  sharp,  with  hard  frost,  in  the  month  called  January,  made 
it  more  tedious  to  me  and  my  children.     Our  stay  was  not 


I    '  i 


^84 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


long  in  this  place  before  he  took  me  to  the  French,  in  order 
for  a  chapman.  When  we  came  among  them  I  was  exposed 
for  sale,  and  he  asked  for  me  800  livres.  But  his  chapman 
not  complying  with  his  demand,  put  him  in  a  great  rage, 
offering  him  but  600 ;  he  said,  in  a  great  passion,  if  he  could 
not  have  his  demand,  he  would  make  a  great  fire  and  burn  me 
and  the  babe,  in  the  view  of  the  town,  which  was  named  Fori 
Royal.  The  Frenchman  bid  the  Indian  make  his  fire,  *'  and 
I  will,"  says  he,  '*  help  you,  if  you  think  that  will  do  you  more 
good  than  600  livres,"  calling  my  master  fool,  and  speaking 
roughly  to  him,  bid  him  be  gone.*  But  at  the  same  time  the 
Frenchman  was  civil  to  me ;  and,  for  my  encouragement,  bid 
me  be  of  good  cheer,  for  I  should  be  redeemed,  and  not  go 
back  with  them  again. 

Retiring  now  with  my  master  for  this  nip-^it,  the  next  day  I 
was  redeemed  for  six  hundred  livres ;  and  in  treating  with  my 
master,  the  Frenchman  queried  why  he  asked  so  much  for  the 
child's  ransom;  urging,  when  she  had  her  belly  full,  she 
would  die.  My  master  said,  "  No,  she  would  not  die,  having 
already  lived  twenty-six  days  on  nothing  but  water,  believing 
the  child  to  be  a  devil."  The  Frenchman  told  him,  "  No,  the 
child  is  ordered  for  longer  life ;  and  it  has  pleased  God  to 

S reserve  her  to  admiration."  My  master  said  no,  she  was  a 
evil,  and  he  believed  she  worl  \  not  die,  unless  they  took  a 
hatchet  and  beat  her  brains  out.  Thus  ended  their  discourse, 
and  I  was,  as  aforesaid,  with  my  babe,  ransomed  for  six  hun- 
dred livres ;  my  little  boy,  likewise,  at  the  same  time,  for  an 
additional  sum  of  livres,  was  redeemed  also. 

I  now  having  changed  my  landlord,  my  table  and  diet,  as 
well  as  my  lodging,  the  French  were  civil  beyond  what  I  could 
either  desire  or  expect.  But  the  next  day  after  I  was  re- 
deemed, the  Romish  priest  took  my  babe  from  me,  and  accord- 
ing to  their  custom,  they  baptized  her,  urging  if  she  died 
before  that  she  would  be  damned,  like  some  of  our  modern 
pretended  reformed  priests,  and  they  gave  her  a  name  as 
pleased  them  best,  which  was  Mary  Ann  Frossways,  telling 
me  my  child,  if  she  now  died,  would  be  saved,  being  baptized ; 
and  my  landlord  speaking  to  the  priest  that  baptized  her,  said, 
"It  would  be  well,  now  Frossways  was  baptized,  for  her  to 
die,  being  no^v  in  a  state  to  be  saved,"  but  the  priest  said,  "  No, 
the  child  having  been  so  miraculously  preserved  through  so 
many  hardships,  she  may  be  designed  by  God  for  some  great 
work,  and  by  her  life  being  still  continued,  may  much  more 
glorify  God  than  if  she  should  now  die."  A  very  sensible 
remark,  and  I  wish  it  m  \y  prove  true. 

I  having  been  about  five  months  amongst  the  Indians,  in 


about 
husban( 
who  wi 
of  our 
little  on 
he  reco 
by  no  n\ 
she  was 
should 
very  civ 
civility 
come  in 
Howe 
them  ref 
poor  hus 
deavors 
we  were 
our  grea 
ward  ov< 
vant  mai 
ness  of  '. 
7th  mon 
home,  an 
and  six  d 
In  the  i 
derful  pri 
and  I  hop 
my  mind, 
duly  rega 
approve  n 
ness  of  CO 
who  is  G< 
But  m] 
m  quiet  \ 
was  left  1 
redemptio 
out  makiii 
journey  at 
ny  with  a 
their  child 
about.     B 
grew  wors 
he  should 
the  Lord's 
given  up 
and  sensib 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAFnVITY. 


125 


lern 
as 
ling 
fed; 
[aid, 
to 
|No, 
so 
reat 
lore 
lible 

in 


about  one  month  after  I  got  amongst  the  French,  my  dear 
husband,  to  my  unspeakable  comfort  and  joy,  came  to  me, 
who  was  now  himself  concerned  to  redeem  his  children,  two 
of  our  daughters  being  still  captives,  and  only  myself  and  two 
little  ones  redeemed ;  and,  through  great  difficulty  and  trouble, 
he  recovered  the  younger  daughter.  But  the  eldest  we  could 
by  no  means  obtain  from  their  hands,  for  the  squaw,  to  whom 
she  was  given,  had  a  son  whom  she  intended  my  daughter 
should  in  time  be  prevailed  with  to  marry.  The  Indians  are 
very  civil  towards  their  captive  women,  not  offering  any  in- 
civility by  any  indecent  carriage,  (unless  they  be  much  over- 
come in  liquor,)  which  is  commendable  in  them,  so  far. 

However;  the  affections  they  had  for  my  daughter  made 
them  refuse  all  offers  and  terms  of  ransom ;  so  that,  after  my 
poor  husband  had  waited,  and  made  what  attempts  and  en- 
deavors he  could  to  obtain  his  child,  and  all  to  no  purpose, 
we  were  forced  to  make  homeward,  leaving  our  daughter,  to 
our  great  grief,  behind  us,  amongst  the  Indians,  and  set  for- 
ward over  the  lake,  with  three  of  our  children,  and  the  ser- 
vant maid,  in  company  with  sundry  others,  and,  by  the  kind- 
ness of  Providence,  we  got  well  home  on  the  1st  day  of  the 
7th  month,  1725.  From  which  it  appears  I  had  been  from 
home,  amongst  the  Indians  and  French,  about  twelve  months 
and  six  days. 

In  the  series  of  which  time,  the  many  deliverances  and  won- 
derful providences  of  God  unto  us,  and  over  us,  hath  been, 
and  I  hope  will  so  remain  to  be,  as  a  continued  obligation  on 
my  i^ind,  ever  to  live  in  that  fear,  love,  and  obedience  to  God, 
duly  regarding,  by  his  grace,  with  meekness  and  wisdom,  to 
approve  myself  by  his  spirit,  in  all  holiness  of  life  and  godli- 
ness of  conversation,  to  the  praise  of  him  that  hath  called  me, 
who  is  God  blessed  forever. 

But  my  dear  husband,  poor  man !  could  not  enjoy  himself 
m  quiet  with  us,  for  want  of  his  dear  daughter  Sarah,  that 
was  left  behind ;  and  not  willing  to  omit  anything  for  her 
redemption  which  lay  in  his  power,  he  could  not  be  easy  with- 
out making  a  second  attempt ;  in  order  to  which,  he  took  his 
journey  about  the  19th  day  of  the  second  month,  1727,  in  compa- 
ny with  a  kinsman  and  his  wife,  who  went  to  redeem  some  of 
their  children,  and  were  so  happy  as  to  obtain  what  they  went 
about.  But  my  dear  husband  being  taken  sick  on  the  way, 
grew  worse  and  worse,  as  we  were  informed,  and  was  sensible 
he  should  not  get  over  it ;  telling  my  kinsman  that  if  it  was 
the  Lord's  will  he  must  die  in  the  wilderness,  he  was  freely 
given  up  to  it.     He  was  under  a  good  composure  of  mind, 

and  sensible  to  his  last  moment,  and  died,  as  near  as  we  can 
11* 


'I 


126 


ELIZABETH  HANSON'S  CAPTiyiTY. 


^ 


judge,  in  about  the  half  way  between  Albany  and  Canada,  in 
my  kinsman's  arms,  and  is  at  rest,  I  hope,  m  the  Lord :  and 
though  my  own  children's  loss  is  very  great,  yet  I  doubt  not 
but  his  gain  is  much  more ;  I  therefore  desire  and  pray,  that 
the  Lord  will  enable  me  patiently  to  submit  to  his  will  in  all 
things  he  is  pleased  to  suffer  to  be  my  lot,  while  here,  ear- 
nestly supplicating  the  God  and  father  of  all  our  mercies  to 
be  a  father  to  my  fatherless  children,  and  give  unto  them  that 
blessing,  which  maketh  truly  rich,  and  adds  no  sorrow  with 
it ;  that  as  they  grow  in  years  they  may  grow  in  grace,  and 
experience  the  joy  of  salvation,  which  is  come  by  Jesus 
Christ,  our  Lord  and  Savior.     Amen. 

Now,  though  my  husband  died,  by  reason  of  which  his  la- 
bor was  ended,  yet  my  kinsman  prosecuted  the  thing,  and  left 
no  stone  unturned,  that  he  thought,  or  could  be  advised,  was 
^proper  to  the  obtaining  my  daughter's  freedom ;  but  could  by 
no  meaofi  prevail ;  for,  as  is  before  said,  she  being  in  another 
.part  of  the  country  distant  from  where  I  was,  and  given  to  an 
<old  squaw,  who  intended  to  marry  her  in  time  to  her  son,  using 
what  persuasion  she  could  to  effect  her  end,  sometimes  by  fair 
means,  and  sometimes  by  severe. 

In  the  mean  time  a  Frenchman  interposed,  and  they  by  per- 
suasions enticing  my  child  to  marry,  in  order  to  obtam  her 
freedom,  by  reason  that  those  captives  married  by  the  French 
are,  by  that  marriage,  made  free  among  them,  the  Indians 
having  then  no  pretence  longer  to  keep  them  as  captives ;  she 
therefore  was  prevailed  upon,  for  the  reasons  afore  assigned, 
to  marry,  and  she  was  accordingly  married  to  the  said  French- 
man. 

Thus,  as  well,  and  as  near  as  I  can  from  my  memory,  (not 
being  capable  of  keeping  a  journal,)  I  have  given  a  short  but  a 
true  account  of  some  of  the  remarkable  trials  and  wonderful 
deliverances  which  I  never  purposed  to  expose;  but  that  I 
hope  thereby  the  merciful  kindness  and  goodness  of  God  may 
be  magnified,  and  the  reader  hereof  provoked  with  more  care 
and  fear  to  serve  him  in  righteousness  and  humility,  and  then 
my  designed  end  and  purpose  will  be  answered. 

G.  H. 


If 


A  NARRATIVE 

OF  THE  CAPTIVITY  OP  NEHEMIAH  HOW,  WHO  WAS  TAKEN 
iJY  THE  INDIANS  AT  THE  GREAT  MEADOW  FORT  ABOVE 
FORT  DUMMER,  WHERE  HE  WAS  AN  INHABITANT,  OCTO- 
BBR  llTH,  1745.  Giving  an  account  of  what  he  met  with  in  his  travelling 
to  Canada,  and  while  he  was  in  prison  there.  Together  with  an  account  of 
Mr.  How'ti  death  at  Canada.— Psalm cxxxvii :  1,2,3, and 4.— Bostons  N. 
E.  Printed  and  sold  opposite  to  the  Prison  in  Queen  Street,  1748. 

At  the  Great  Meadow's  fort,  fourteen  miles  abova  fort  Dum- 
meri  October  11th,  1745,  where  I  was  an  inhabitant,  I  went  out 
from  the  fort  about  fifty  rods  to  cut  wood ;  and  when  I  had 
done,  I  walked  towards  the  fort,  but  in  my  way  heard  the  crack- 
ling of  fences  behind  me,  and  turning  about,  saw  twelve  or 
thirteen  Indians,  with  red  painted  heads,  running  after  mc  ;  on 
which  I  cried  to  God  for  help,  and  ran,  and  hallooed  as  I  ran, 
to  alarm  the  fort.  But  by  the  time  I  had  run  ten  rods,  the 
Indians  came  up  with  me  and  took  hold  of  me.  At  the  same 
time  the  men  at  the  fort  shot  at  the  Indians,  and  killed  one  on 
the  spot,  wounded  another,  who  died  fourteen  days  after  he 
got  home,  and  likewise  shot  a  bullet  through  the  powder-horn 
of  one  that  had  hold  of  me.  They  then  led  me  into  the  swamp 
and  pinioned  me.  I  then  committed  my  case  to  God,  and 
prayed  that,  since  it  was  his  will  to  deliver  me  into  the  hands 
of  those  cruel  men,  I  might  find  favor  in  their  eyes ;  which 
request  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  was  pleased  to  grant ;  for 
they  were  generally  kind  to  me  while  I  was  with  them.  Some 
of  the  Indians  at  that  time  took  charge  of  me,  others  ran  into 
the  field  to  kill  cattle.  They  led  me  about  half  a  mile,  where 
we  staid  in  open  sight  of  the  fort,  till  the  Indians  who  were 
killing  cattle  came  to  us,  laden  with  beef.  Then  they  went  a 
little  further  to  a  house,  where  they  staid  to  cut  the  meat  from 
the  bones,  and  cut  the  helve  off  of  my  axe,  and  stuck  it  into 
the  ground,  pointing  the  way  we  went. 

Then  we  travelled  along  the  river  side,  and  when  we  had 
got  about  three  miles,  I  espied  a  canoe  coming  down  on  the 
further  side  of  the  river,  with  David  Rugg  and  Robert  Baker, 
belonging  to  our  fort.  I  made  as  much  noise  as  I  could,  by 
hammering,  &c.,  that  they  might  see  us  before  the  Indians  saw 
them,  and  so  get  ashore  and  escape.  But  the  Indians  saw 
them,  and  shot  across  the  river,  twenty  or  thirty  guns  at  them, 
bv  which  the  first-mentioned  man  was  killed,  but  the  other, 
Robert  Baker,  got  ashore  and  escaped.  Then  some  of  the' 
Indiana  swam  across  the  river  and  brought  the  canoe  to  us; 


t    :V» 


•^ 


128 


NEHEMIAH  HOWS  CAPTIVITY. 


having  stripped  and  scalped  the  dead  man,  and  then  we  went 
about  a  mile  further,  when  we  came  to  another  house,  where 
we  stopped.  While  there  we  heard  men  running  by  the  bank 
of  the  river,  whom  I  knew  to  be  Jonathan  Thayer,  Samuel 
Nutting  and  my  son  Caleb  How.  Five  of  the  Indians  ran  tc 
head  them.  My  heart  asked  for  them,  and  prayed  to  God  tr 
save  them  from  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  I  suppose  they  hid* 
under  the  bank  of  the  river,  for  tho  Indians  were  gone  some 
time,  but  came  back  without  them,  blessed  be  God. 

We  went  about  a  mile  further,  where  we  lodged  that  night, 
and  roasted  the  meat  they  had  got.  The  next  day  we  travel- 
led very  slow,  by  reason  of  the  wounded  Indian,  which  was  a 
great  favor  to  me.  *  We  lodged  the  second  night  against  Num- 
ber Four  [since  Charlestown,  N.  H.]  The  third  day  we  like- 
wise travelled  slowly,  and  stopped  often  to  rest,  and  get  alon^ 
the  wounded  man.  We  lodged  that  night  by  the  second  small 
river  that  runs  into  the  great  river  against  Number  Four. 

The  fourth  day  morning  the  Indians  held  a  piece  of  bark, 
and  bid  me  write  my  name,  and  how  many  days  we  had  tra- 
velled ;  '•  for,"  said  they  '*  may  be  Englishmen  will  come  here." 
That  was  a  hard  day  to  me,  as  it  was  wet  and  we  went  over 
prodigious  mountains,  so  that  I  became  weak  and  faint ;  for  I 
had  net  eaten  the  value  of  one  meal  from  the  time  I  was  taken, 
and  that  being  beef  almost  raw  without  bread  or  salt.  When 
I  cdLtne  first  to  the  foot  of  those  hills,  I  thought  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  ascend  them,  without  immediate  help  from  God ; 
therefore  my  constant  recourse  was  to  him  for  strength,  which 
he  was  graciously  pleased  to  grant  me,  and  for  which  I  desire 
to  praise  him. 

We  got  that  day  a  little  before  night  to  a  place  where  they 
had  a  hunting  house,  a  kettle,  some  beer,  Indian  corn,  and 
salt.  They  boiled  a  good  mess  of  it.  I  drank  of  the  broth, 
eat  of  the  meat  and  corn,  and  was  wonderfully  refreshed,  so 
that  I  felt  like  another  man.  The  next  morning  we  got  up 
early,  and  after  we  had  eaten,  my  master  said  to  me,  "  You 
must  quick  walk  to  day,  or  I  kill  you."  I  told  him  I  would  go 
as  fast  as  I  could,  and  no  faster,  if  he  did  kill  me.  At  which 
an  old  Indian,  who  was  the  best  friend  I  had,  took  care  of  me. 
We  travelled  that  day  very  hard,  and  over  steep  hills,  but  it 
being  a  cool,  windy  day,  I  performed  it  with  more  ease  than 
before ;  yet  I  was  mucn  tired  before  night,  but  dare  not  com- 
plain. 

The  next  day  the  Indians  gave  me  a  pair  of  their  shoes,  so 
that  I  travelled  with  abundant  more  ease  than  when  I  wore  my 
own  shoes.  I  ate  but  very  little,  as  our  victuals  were  almost 
spent.     When  the  sun  was  about  two  hours  high,  the  Indians 


ease, 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


189 


so 


,ns 


scattered  to  hunt,  and  they  soon  killed  a  fawn,  and  three  small 
hears,  so  that  we  had  again  meat  enough ;  some  of  which  we 
boiled  and  eat  heartily  of,  by  which  I  felt  strong. 

The  next  day  we  travelled  very  hard,  and  performed  it  with 
ease,  insomuch  that  one  of  the  Indians  told  me  I  was  a  very 
strong  man.  About  three  o'clock  we  came  to  the  lake,  where 
they  had  five  canoes,  pork,  Indian  corn,  and  tobacco.  We  got 
into  the  canoes,  and  the  Indians  stuck  up  a  pole  about  eight 
feet  long  with  the  scalp  of  David  Rugg  on  the  top  of  it  painted 
red,  with  the  likeness  of  eyes  and  mouth  on  it.  We  sailed 
about  ten  miles,  and  then  went  on  shore,  and  after  we  had 
made  a  fire,  we  boiled  a  good  supper,  and  eat  heartily. 

The  next  day  we  set  sail  for  Crown  Point,  but  when  we  were 
within  a  mile  of  the  place,  they  went  on  shore,  where  were 
eight  or  ten  French  and  Indians,  two  of  whom,  before  I  got  on 
shore,  came  running  into  the  water,  knee  deep,  and  pulled  me 
out  of  the,  canoe.  There  they  sung  and  danced  around  me  a 
while,  when  one  of  them  bid  me  sit  down,  which  I  did.  Then 
they  pulled  off  my  shoes  and  buckles,  and  took  them  from  me. 
Soon  after  we  went  along  to  Crown  Point.  When  we  got  there, 
the  people,  both  French  and  Indians,  were  very  thick  by  the 
water-side.  Two  of  the  Indians  took  me  out  of  the  canoe,  and 
leading  me,  bid  me  run,  which  I  did,  about  twenty  rods  to  the 
fort.  The  fort  is  large,  built  with  stone  and  lime.  They  led 
me  up  to  the  third  loft,  where  was  the  captain's  chamber.  A 
chair  was  brought  that  I  might  sit  by  the  fire  and  warm  me. 
Soon  after,  the  Indians  that  I  belonged  to,  and  others  that  were 
there,  came  into  the  chamber,  among  whom  was  one  I  knew, 
named  Pealtomy.  He  came  and  spoke  to  me,  and  shook  hands 
with  me,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  him.  He  went  out,  but  soon 
returned  and  brought  to  me  another  Indian,  named  Amrusus, 
husband  to  her  who  was  Eunice  Williams,  daughter  of  the  late 
Rev.  John  Williams,  of  Deerfield  ;  he  was  glad  to  see  me,  and 
I  to  see  him.  He  asked  me  about  his  wife's  relations,  and 
showed  a  great  deal  of  respect  to  me. 

A  while  after  this,  the  Indians  sat  in  a  ring  in  the  chamber, 
and  Pealtomy  came  to  me,  and  told  me  I  must  go  and  sing  and 
dance  before  the  Indians.  I  told  him  I  could  not.  He  told  me 
over  some  Indian  words,  and  bid  me  sing  them.  I  told  him  I 
could  not.  With  that  the  rest  of  the  fort  who  could  speak 
some  English,  came  to  me,  and  bid  me  sing  it  in  English,  which 
was,  "  I  don't  know  where  I  go,"  which  I  did,  dancing  round 
that  ring  three  times.  I  then  sat  down  by  the  fire.  The  priest 
came  to  me,  and  gave  me  a  dram  of  rum,  and  afterwards  the 
captain  brought  me  part  of  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  plate  of  butter^ 
and  asked  me  to  eat,  which  I  did  heartily,  for  I  had  not  eaten 


i'i 


— ..    .JUjl. 


130 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


any  bread  from  the  time  I  was  taken  till  then.     The  French 

?riest  and  all  the  officers  showed  me  a  great  deal  of  respect, 
^he  captain  gave  me  a  pair  of  good  buck-skin  shoes,  and  the 
friest  fixed  them  on  my  feet.  We  staid  there  that  night,  and 
slept  with  the  priest,  captain  and  lieutenant.  The  lieutenant's 
name  was  Ballock ;  he  had  been  a  prisoner  at  Boston,  and  had 
been  at  Northampton  and  the  towns  thereabouts.  This  day, 
which  was  the  Sabbath,  I  was  well  treated  by  the  French  offi- 
cers, with  victuals  and  drink.  We  tarried  there  till  noon,  then 
went  off  about  a  mile,  and  put  on  shore,  where  they  staid  the 
most  of  the  day ;  and  having  rum  with  them,  most  of  thera 
were  much  liquored.  Pealtomy  and  his  squaw,  and  anb^er 
Indian  family,  went  with  us,  and  by  them  I  found  out  thai  Wil- 
liam Phips  killed  an  Indian,  besides  him  we  wounded  before 
he  was  killed ;  for  an  Indian  who  was  with  us  asked  me  if 
there  was  one  killed  near  our  fort  last  summer.  I  told  him  I 
did  not  know.  He  said  he  had  a  brother  who  went  out  then, 
and  he  had  not  seen  him  since,  and  had  heard  he  was  killed  at 
our  fort,  and  wanted  to  knotv  if  it  was  true.  But  I  did  not 
think  it  best  to  tell  him  any  such  thing  was  suspected. 

The  Indians  now  got  into  a  frolic,  and  quarrelled  about  me, 
and  made  me  sit  in  the  canoe  by  the  water- side.  I  was  afraid 
they  v/ould  hurt  if  not  kill  me.  They  attempted  to  come  to 
me,  but  the  sober  Indians  hindered  them  that  were  in  liquor. 
Pealtomy  seeing  the  rout,  went  to  the  fort,  and  soon  after,  Lieut. 
Ballock,  with  some  soldiers,  came  to  us,  and  when  the  Indians 
were  made  easy,  they  went  awaj'.  We  lodged  there  that  night, 
and  the  next  day  was  a  stormy  day  of  wind,  snow  and  rain,  so 
that  we  were  forced  to  tarry  there  that  day  and  the  next  night. 
In  this  time  the  Indians  continued  fetching  rum  from  the  fort, 
and  kept  half  drunk  Here  I  underwent  some  hardship  by 
staying  there  so  long  in  a  storm  without  shelter  or  blanket. 
They  had  a  great  dance  that  night,  and  hung  up  David  Rugg's 
scalp  on  a  pole,  dancing  round  it.  After  they  had  done,  they 
lay  down  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning,  which  was  the  tenth  day  from  the  time 
of  my  being  taken,  we  went  off  in  the  canoe,  and  the  night 
after  we  arrived  at  the  wide  lake,  and  there  we  staid  that  night. 
Some  of  the  Indians  went  a  hunting,  and  killed  a  fat  deer,  so 
that  we  had  victuals  plenty,  for  we  had  a  full  s'jpply  of  bread 
given  us  at  the  fort  at  Crown  Point. 

The  next  morning  the  wind  being  calm,  ^/e  set  out  about 
two  hours  before  day,  and  soon  after  came  to  a  schooner  lying 
at  anchor.  We  went  on  board  her,  and  the  French  treated  us 
very  civilly.  They  gave  each  of  us  a  dram  of  rum,  and  vict- 
uals to  eat.     As  soon  as  it  was  day  we  left  the  schooner,  and 


two  h 

to  Sh 

Frenc 

Mr. 

Frenc 

could 

Igott 

bid  m( 

then 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


131 


ht. 

so 

3ad 


us 


two  hours  before  sunset  got  over  the  lake,  and  next  day  came 
to  Shamballee  [Chamblee,*]  where  we  met  three  hundred 
French  and  two  hundred  Indians,  who  did  the  mischief  about 
Mr.  Lydin's  fort.t  I  was  taken  out  of  the  canoe  by  two 
Frenchmen,  and  fled  to  a  house  about  ten  rods  off  as  fast  as  I 
could  run,  the  Indians  flinging  snow-balls  at  me.  As  soon  as 
I  got  to  the  house,  the  Indians  stood  round  me  very  thick,  and 
bid  me  sing  and  dance,  which  I  did  with  them,  in  their  way ; 
then  they  gave  a  shout,  and  left  off.  Two  of  them  came  to 
me,  one  of  whom  smote  m?  on  one  cheek,  the  other  on  the 
other,  which  .made  the  ^lood  run  plentifully.  Then  they  bid 
messing  and  dance  age  ,  which  I  did  with  them,  and  they  with 
mej  shouting  as  before.  Then  two  Frenchmen  took  me  under 
.  each  arm,  and  ran  so  fast  that  the  Indians  could  not  keep  up 
with  us  Jo  hurt  'me.  We  ran  about  forty  rods  to  another  house, 
where  a  chair  was  brought  for  me  to  sit  down.  The  house 
was  soon  full  of  French  and  Indians,  and  others  surrounded  it, 
and  some  were  looking  in  to  the  windows.  A  French  gentle- 
man came  to  me,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  led  me  into  a  small 
room,  where  none  came  in  but  such  as  he  admitted.  He  gave 
me  victuals  and  drink.  Several  French  gentlemen  and  Indians 
came  in  and  were  civil  to  me.  The  Indians  who  came  in 
could  speak  English,  shook  hands  with  me,  and  called  me 
brother.  They  told  me  they  were  all  soldiers,  and  were  going 
to  New  England.  They  said  they  should  go  to  my  town, 
which  was  a  great  damp  to  my  spirits,  till  I  heard  of  their  re- 
turn, where  they  had  been,  and  what  they  had  done.  A  while 
after  this,  the  Indians  whom  I  belonged  to  came  to  me  and 
told  me  v/e  must  go.  I  went  with  them.  After  going  down 
the  river  about  two  miles,  we  came  to  the  thickest  of  the  town, 
where  was  a  large  fort  built  v/^h  stone  and  lime,  and  very 
large  and  fine  houses  in  it.  Here  was  the  general  of  the  army 
I  spoke  of  before.  He  asked  me  what  news  from  London  and 
Boston.  I  told  him  such  stories  as  I  thought  convenient,  and 
omitted  the  rest,  and  then  went  down  to  the  canoes.  Some  of 
the  Indians  went  and  got  a  plenty  of  bread  and  beef,  which 
they  put  into  the  canoes,  and  then  we  went  into  a  French  house, 
where  we  had  a  good  supper.  There  came  in  several  French 
gentlemen  to  see  me,  who  were  civil.  One  of  them  gave  me 
a  crown,  sterling.  We  lodged  there  till  about  two  hours  before 
day,  when  we  arose,  and  went  down  the  river.     I  suppose  we 

*A  fort  on  a  fine  river  of  the  same  name,  about  fifteen  miles  south-west 
of  Montreal. — Ed. 

fNov.  16,  1745,  Saratoga,  a  Dutch  village  of  ihirtjr  families,  is  destroy 
ed  by  the  Indians  and  French.  They  burnt  a  fort,  killed  many,  and  car 
ried  away  others  of  the  inhabitants. — MS.  Chronicles  of  the  Indians. 


Jk 


\ 


•*?Si 


^•-:; 


132 


NEHEMIAH  HOWS  CAPTIVITY. 


jl      .  went  a  hundred  miles  that  day,  which  brought  us  into  a  great 

river,  called  Quebec.  We  lodged  that  night  in  a  French  hous3, 
and  were  civilly  treated. 

The  next  day  we  went  down  the  river,  and  I  was  carried 
before  the  governor  there,  which  was  the  Sabbath,  and  the  16th 
day  after  my  being  taken.  We  staid  there  about  three  hours, 
and  were  well  treated  by  the  French.  The  Indians  were  then 
ordered  to  carry  me  down  to  Quebec,  which  was  ninety  miles 
further.  We  went  down  the  river  about  ^hree  miles  that 
night,  then  going  on  shore,  lodged  the  remainder  of  the  night. 
.^  The  next  morning  we  set  off,  and  the  second  day,  which 

was  the  18th  from  the  time  I  was  taken,  we  arrived  at  Que- 
bec. The  land  is  inhabited  on  both  sides  of  the  river  from  the 
lake  to  Quebec,  which  is  at  least  two  hundred  miles,  especially 
below  Chamblee,  very  thick,  so  that  the  houses  are  within  sight 
of  one  another  all  the  way. 

But  to  return :  After  we  arrived  at  Quebec,  I  was  carried 
up  into  a  large  chamber,  which  was  full  of  Indians,  who  were 
civil  to  me.  Many  of  the  French  came  in  to  see  me,  and 
were  also  very  kind.  I  staid  there  about  two  hours,  when  a 
French  gentleman,  who  could  speak  good  English,  came  in 
and  told  me  I  must  go  with  him  to  the  governor,  which  I  did ; 
and  after  answering  a  great  many  questions,  and  being  treated 
with  as  much  bread  and  wine  as  I  desired,  I  was  sent  v/ith  an 
officer  to  the  guard-house,  and  led  into  a  small  room,  where 
was  an  Englishman  named  William  Stroud,  a  kinsman  of  the 
Hon.  Judge  Lynd,*  in  New  England.  He  belonged  to  South 
Carolina,  and  had  been  at  Quebec  six  years.  The  governor 
kept  him  confined  for  fear  he  should  leave  him  and  go  to  New 
Englani^,  and  discover  their  strength.  Mr.  Stroud  and  I  were 
kept  in  the  guard-house  one  week,  with  a  sufficiency  of  food 
and  drink.  The  French  gentlemen  kept  coming  in  to  see  me, 
and  I  was  very  civilly  treated  by  them.  I  had  the  better  op- 
portunity of  discoursing  with  them,  as  Mr.  Stroud  was  a  good 
interpreter. 

After  this  we  were  sent  to  prison,  where  I  found  one  James 
Kinlade,  who  was  taken  fourteen  days  before  I  was,  at  Sheep- 
scot,  at  the  eastward,  in  New  England.     I  was  much  pleased 

*  Judge  Ljmd  was  connected  by  marriage  to  the  celebrated  Gov.  Hutch- 
inson. He  presided  at  the  trial  of  Capt.  Preston,  commander  of  the  Bri- 
tish soldiers  m  Boston,  in  1770,  who  fired  upon  and  killed  several  citizens. 
I  have  a  volume  of  Hutchinson's  History  of  Massachusetts,  which  belonged 
to  Judge  Lyiid  with  the  name  of  the  governor  in  it,  in  his  own  hand. 
In  it  are  numerous  notes  and  corrections  throughout,  and  twenty-fotir  MS. 

Eages  of  additions  at  the  end,  in  the  judge's  hand-writing.    It  seems  tc 
ave  been  presented  for  this  purpose  by  the  governor.    Judge  Lyud  died 
a  few  years  after  the  revolution. 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


133 


with  his  conversation,  esteeming  him  a  man  of  true  piety. 
We  were  kept  in  prison  eight  days,  with  liberty  to  keep  in  the 
room  with  the  prison-keeper.  We  were  daily  visited  by  gen- 
tlemen and  ladies,  who  showed  us  great  kindness  in  givmg  us 
money  and  other  things,  and  their  behavior  towards  us  was 
pleasant.  Blessed  be  God  therefor,  for  I  desire  to  ascribe  all 
the  favors  I  have  heen  the  partaker  of,  ever  since  my  captivity, 
to  the  abundant  grace  and  goodness  of  a  bountiful  6od,  as  the 
first  cause. 

After  this  Mr.  Kinlade  and  I  were  sent  to  another  prison, 
where  were  twenty-two  seamen  belonging  to  several  parts  of 
our  king's  dominions ;  three  of  them  captains  of  vessels,  viz. 
James  Southerland  of  Cape  Cod,  William  Chipman  of  Mar- 
blehead,  William  Pote  of  Casco  Bay.  This  prison  was  a  large 
house,  built  with  stone  and  lime,  two  feet  thick,  and  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  long.  We  had  two  large  stoves 
in  it,  and  wood  enough,  so  that  we  could  keep  ourselves  warm 
in  the  coldest  weather.  We  had  provision  sufficient,  viz.  two 
pounds  of  good  wheat  bread,  one  pound  of  beef,  and  peas 
answerable,  to  each  man,  ready  dressed  every  day. 

When  I  had  been  there  a  few  days,  the  captives  desired  me 
to  lead  them  in  carrying  on  morning  and  evening  devotion, 
which  I  was  willing  to  do.  We  had  a  Bible,  psalm-book,  and 
some  other  good  books.  Our  constant  practice  was  to  read  a 
chapter  in  the  Bible,  and  sing  part  of  a  psalm,  and  to  pray, 
night  and  morning. 

When  I  was  at  the  first  prison,  I  was  stripped  of  all  my  old 
and  lousy  clothes,  and  had  other  clothing  given  me  from  head 
to  foot,  and  had  many  kindnesses  shown  me  by  those  that 
lived  thereabouts ;  more  especially  by  one  Mr.  Corby  and  his 
wife,  who  gave  me  money  there,  and  brought  me  many  good 
things  at  the  other  prison.  But  here  I  was  taken  ill,  as  was 
also  most  of  the  other  prisoners,  with  a  flux,  which  lasted 
near  a  month,  so  that  I  was  grown  very  weak.  After  that  I 
was  healthy,  through  divine  goodness.    Blessed  be  God  for  it. 

I  was  much  concerned  for  my  country,  especially  for  the 
place  I  WiK  taken  from,  by  reason  that  I  met  an  army  going 
thither,  as  they  told  me.  The  27th  day  of  November  we  had 
news  come  to  the  prison  that  this  army  had  returned  to  Cham- 
blee,  and  had  taken  upwards  of  a  hundred  captives,  which 
increased  my  concern ;  for  I  expected  our  fort,  and  others 
thereabouts,  were  destroyed.  This  news  put  me  upon  earnest 
prayer  to  God  that  he  would  give  me  grace  to  submit  to  his 
will ;  after  which  I  was  easy  in  my  mind. 

About  a  fortnight  after,  a  Dutchman  was  brought  to  prison, 
who  was  one  of  the  captives  the  said  army  had  taken.  He 
12 


M 


^.. 


134 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


.     J- 

rv 


told  me  they  had  hurnt  Mr.  Lydin's  fort,  and  all  the  houses  at 
that  new  township,  killed  Capt.  Schuyler  and  five  or  six  more, 
and  had  brought  fifty  whites  and  about  sixty  negroes  to  Mont- 
real. I  was  sorry  to  hear  of  so  much  mischief  done,  but 
rejoiced  they  had  not  been  upon  our  river,  and  the  towns 
thereabouts,  for  which  I  gave  thanks  to  God  for  his  great  good- 
ness in  preserving  them,  and  particularly  my  family. 

When  Christmas  came,  the  governor  sent  us  twenty-four 
livres,  and  the  lord-intendant  came  into  the  prison  and  gave 
us  twenty-four  more,  which  was  about  two  guineas.  He  told 
us  he  hoped  we  should  be  sent  home  in  a  little  time.  He  was 
a  pleasant  gentleman,  and  very  kind  to  captives.  Some  time 
after,  Mr.  Shearsy,  a  gentleman  of  quality,  came  to  us,  and 
gave  to  the  three  sea  captains  twenty-four  livers,  and  to  me 
twelve,  and  the  next  day  sent  me  a  bottle  of  claret  wine. 
About  ten  days  after  he  sent  me  twelve  livres  more ;  in  all 
eight  pounds,  old  tenor. 

January  20th,  1746,  eighteen  captives  were  brought  from 
Montreal  to  the  prison  at  Quebec,  which  is  180  miles. 

February  22d,  seven  captives  more,  who  were  taken  at 
Albany,  were  brought  to  the  prison  to  us,  viz.  six  men  and  one 
old  woman  seventy  years  old,  who  had  been  so  infirm  for 
seven  years  past  that  she  had  not  been  able  to  walk  the  streets, 
yet  performed  this  tedious  journey  with  ease. 

March  15th,  one  of  the  captives  taken  at  Albany,  after  four- 
teen or  fifteen  days'  sickness,  died  in  the  hospital  at  Quebec, 
— a  man  of  a  sober,  pious  conversation.  His  name  was  Law- 
rence Plaflfer,  a  German  born. 

May  3d,  three  captives  taken  at  No.  Four,  sixteen  miles 
above  where  I  was  taken,  viz.  Capt.  John  SpafToid,  Isaac  Par- 
ker, and  Stephen  Farns worth,  were  brought  to  prison  to  us. 
They  informed  me  my  family  was  well,  a  few  days  before  they 
were  taken,  which  rejoiced  me  much.  I  was  sorry  for  the 
misfortune  of  these  my  friends,  but  was  glad  of  their  company, 
and  of  their  being  well  used  by  those  who  took  them. 

May  14th,  two  captives  were  brought  into  prison,  Jacob 
Read  and  Edward  Cloutman,  taken  at  a  new  township  called 
Gorhamtown,  near  Casco  Bay.  They  informed  us  that  one 
man  and  four  children  of  one  of  them  were  killed,  and  his  wife 
taken  at  the  same  time  with  them,  and  was  in  the  hands  of 
the  Indians.* 

May  16th,  two  lads,  James  and  Samuel  Anderson,  brothers, 
taken  at  Sheepscot,  were  brought  to  prison.     Cn  the  17th, 

•  GorhamtowTt  was  attacked  in  the  morning  of  the  19th  April,  1746, 
hf  a  party  of  about  ten  Indians. — MS.  Chronicles  of  the  Indians. 


Samu 

New: 

to  prii 

sons  ( 

da  ugh 

of  the 

Mai 

at  Cor 

Elisha 

were  k 

Jun( 

fort  G€ 

brough 

Ashuel 

me  thi 

Shearlj 

alive. 

June 
pii.on, 
about  fc 
five  Ind 
and  left 
the  ensi 
that  the 
June 
ters  whi 
Lieut.  G 
of  Canac 
hopes  of 
June  i 
were  dea 
there  we 
taken,  at 
who  took 
other  pla( 
wounded 
dren  of  tl 
July  5t 
might  be 
should  be 
caused  gr 
Berran,  o/ 
an  expedi 
rejoiced  uj 
and  who  v 
other  place 


N2HEMI.AH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


135 


1, 1746, 


Samuel  Burbank  and  David  Woodwell,  who  were  taken  at 
New  Hopkinton,  near  Rumford,  [Concord,  N.  H.]  were  brought 
to  prison,  and  informed  us  there  were  taken  with  them  two 
sons  of  the  said  Burbank,  and  th?  wife,  two  sons  and  a 
daughter  of  the  said  Woodwell,  whom  they  left  in  the  hands 
of  the  Indians. 

May  24ih,  Thomas  Jones,  of  Holliston,  who  was  a  soldier 
at  Gontoocook,  was  brought  to  prison,  and  told  us  that  one 
Elisha  Cook,  and  a  negro  belonging  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stevens, 
were  killed  when  he  was  taken. 

June  1st,  William  Aikings,  taken  at  Pleasant  Point,  near 
fort  George,  was  brought  to  prison.  June  2d,  Mr.  Shearly 
brought  several  letters  of  deacon  Timothy  Brown,  of  Lower 
Ashuelot,  and  money,  and  delivered  them  to  me,  which  made 
me  think  he  was  killed  or  taken.  A  few  days  after,  Mr. 
Shearly  told  me  he  was  taken.  I  was  glad  to  hear  he  was 
alive. 

June  6th,  Timothy  Cummings,  aged  60,  was  brought  to 
pii.on,  who  informed  us  he  wa?  at  work  with«five  other  men, 
about  forty  rods  from  the  *jlock-house,  George's  [fort,]  when 
five  Indians  shot  at  them,  but  hurt  none.  The  men  ran  away, 
and  left  him  and  iheir  guns  to  the  Indians.  He  told  us  that 
the  ensign  was  killed  as  he  stood  on  the  top  of  the  fort,  and 
that  the  English  killed  five  Indians  at  the  same  time. 

June  13th,  Mr.  Shearly  brought  to  the  captives  some  let- 
ters which  were  sent  from  Albany,  and  among  them  one  from 
Lieut.  Gov.  Phips,  of  the  Massachusetts  Bay,  to  the  governor 
of  Canada,  for  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  which  gave  us  great 
hopes  of  a  speedy  release. 

June  22d,  eight  mf  n  were  brought  to  prison,  among  whom 
were  deacon  Brown  and  Robert  Morse,  who  informed  me  that 
there  were  six  or  eight  Indians  killed,  a  little  before  they  were 
taken,  at  Upper  Ashuelot,  and  that  they  learnt,  by  the  Indians 
who  took  them,  there  were  six  more  of  the  English  killed  at 
other  places  near  Connecticut  river,  and  several  more  much 
wounded ;  these  last  were  supposed  to  be  the  wife  and  chil- 
dren of  the  aforesaid  Burbank  and  Woodwell. 

July  5th,  we  sent  a  petition  to  the  chief  governor  that  we 
might  be  exchanged,     nd  the  7th,  Mr.  Shearly  told  us  we 
should  be  exchanged  for  other  captives  in  a  little  time,  which 
caused  great  joy  among  us.     The  same  day,  at  night,  Johft  '  f^ 
Berran,  of  Northfield,  was  brought  to  prison,  who  told  us  that  i%' 
an   expedition    against   Canada   was    m   foot,   which   much  t%i 
rejoiced  us.     He  also  told  us  of  the  three  fights  in  No.  Four, 
and  who  were  killed  and  taken,  and  of  the  mischief  done  in 
other  places  near  Connecticut  river,  and  that  my  brother  Dan- 


* 


r  ' 


r 


136 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


iel  How's  son  Daniel  was  taken  with  him,  and  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  Indians,  who  designed  to  keep  him. 

July  20th,  John  Jones,  a  seaman,  was  brought  into  prison, 
who  told  us  he  was  going  from  Cape  Breton  to  Newfound- 
land with  one  Englishman  and  four  Frenchmen,  who  had 
sworn  allegiance  to  King  George,  and  in  the  passage  they 
killed  the  other  Englishman,  but  carried  him  to  the  bay  of 
Arb,  where  there  was  an  army  of  French  and  Indians,  to 
whom  they  delivered  him,  and  by  them  was  sent  to  Quebec. 

July  21st,  John  Richards  and  a  boy  of  nine  or  ten  years  of 
age,  who  belonged  to  Rochester,  in  New  Hampshire,  were 
brought  to  prison.  They  told  us  there  were  four  Englishmen 
killed  when  they  were  taken. 

August  15th,  seven  captives,  who  with  eight  more  taken 
at  St.  John's  island,  were  brought  to  prison.  They  told  us 
that  several  were  killed  after  quarters  were  given,  among 
whom  was  James  Owen,  late  of  Brookfield,  in  New  England. 
On  the  16th,  Thomas  Jones,  late  of  Sherburne,  in  New  Eng- 
land, after  seven  or  eight  days'  sickness,  died.  He  gave  good 
satisfaction  as  to  his  future  state.  On  the  25th  we  had  a 
squall  of  snow. 

September  12th,  Robert  Downing,  who  had  been  a  soldier 
at  Cape  Breton,  and  was  taken  at  St.  Johns,  and  who  was 
with  the  Indians  two  months,  and  suffered  great  abuse  from 
them,  was  brought  to  prison. 

On  the  15th,  twenty-three  of  the  captives  taken  at  Hoosuck 
fort  were  brought  to  prison,  among  whom  was  the  Rev.  Mr. 
John  Norton.  They  informed  us  that  after  fighting  twenty- 
five  hours,  with  eight  hundred  French  and  Indians,  they  sur- 
rendered themselves,  on  capitulation,  prisoners  of  war;  that 
Thomas  Nalton  and  Josiah  Read  were  killed  when  they  were 
taken.  The  names  of  those  now  brought  in  are  the  Rov.  Mr. 
Norton,  John  Hawks,  John  Smead,  his  wife  and  six  children, 
John  Perry  and  his  wife,  Moses  Scott,  his  wife  and  two  children, 
Samuel  Goodman,  Jonathan  Bridgman,  Nathan  Eames,  Jo- 
seph Scott,  Amos  Pratt,  Benjamin  Sinconds,  Samuel  Lovet, 
David  Warren,  and  Phinehas  Furbush.  The  two  last  of  these 
informed  me  that  my  brother  Daniel  How's  son  was  taken 
from  the  Indians,  and  now  lives  with  a  French  gentleman  at 
Montreal.  There  were  four  captives  more  taken  at  Albany, 
the  last  summer,  who  were  brought  to  prison  the  same  day. 

On  the  26th  (Sept.)  74  men  and  two  women,  taken  at  sea, 
were  brought  to  prison.  October  1st,  Jacob  Shepard,  of 
Westborough,  taken  at  Hoosuck,  was  brought  to  prison.  On 
the  3d,  Jonathan  Batherick  was  brought  in,  and  on  the  5th, 
seventeen  other  men,  three   of  whom  were   taken  with  Mr. 


Nortor 

and  S 

Casco, 

Ooodei 

'  had  a  I 

four  se 

the  20t 

and  Re 

land. 

Indians 

to  Moni 

Nove 

taken  w 

Marlbor 

scot,  is 

father  w 

20th,  Le 

ried  in 

abovosaii 

days  afte 

for  most 

melanchc 

deaths  ar 

and  on  tl; 

Decern 

Gooden,  \ 

On  the  7i 

wife  died, 

ants.     Da 

man.     Jo 

Davly,  of 

Januarj 

Phinehas 

twenty  ca 

another  p 

Jacob  Bai 

IVth,  Giat 

the  23d,  S 

New  Engli 

Februar 

child  of  Mc 

six  more  w 

John  Sund( 

Philip  Scof 

of  Westbor 

died,  and  th 


.:;:.rl:s. 


P. 


^9i 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


137 


Norton  and  others,  viz.  Nathaniel  Hitchcock,  John  Aldrick, 
and  Stephen  Sc  ,  Richard  Subs,  who  was  taken  at  New 
Casco,  says  ont  man  was  killed  at  the  same  time.  Also  Pike 
Gooden,  taken  at  Saco,  was  brought  to  prison.  He  says  he 
had  a  brother  killed  at  the  same  time.  On  the  12th,  twenty- 
four  seamen  are  brought  in,  and  on  the  19th,  six  more.  On 
the  20tli,  Jacob  Read  died.  On  the  23d,  £dward  Cloutman 
and  Robert  Dunbar  broke  prison  and  escaped  for  New  Eng- 
land. The  27th,  a  man  was  brouj]fht  into  prison,  who  said  the 
Indians  took  five  more  [besides  himself],  and  brought  ten  scalps 
to  Montreal. 

November  1st,  John  Read  died.  The  9th,  John  Davis, 
taken  with  Mr.  Norman,  died.  The  17th,  Nathan  Eames,  of 
Marlborough,  died.  On  the  19th,  Mr.  Adams,  taken  at  Sheep- 
scot,  is  brought  to  prison.  He  says  that  Jamas  Anderson's 
father  was  killed,  and  his  uncle  taken  at  the  same  time.  The 
20th,  Leonard  Lydle  and  the  widow  Sarah  Briant  were  mar- 
ried in  Canada,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Norton.  On  the  22d,  the 
abovfsaid  Anderson's  uncle  was  brought  to  prison.  Two 
days  after,  (24th)  John  Bradshaw  died.  He  had  not  been  well 
for  most  of  the  time  he  had  been  a  prisoner.  It  is  a  very 
melancholy  time  with  us.  There  are  now  thirty  sick,  and 
deaths  among  us  daily.  Died  on  the  28th,  Jonathan  Dunham, 
and  on  the  29th,  died  also  Capt.  Bailey  of  Amesbury. 

December  1st,  an  Albany  man  died,  and  on  the  6th,  Pike 
Gooden,  who,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  made  a  happy  change. 
On  the  7th,  a  girl  of  ten  years  died.  The  11th,  Moses  Scott's 
wife  died,  and  on  the  15th,  one  of  Captain  Robertson's  lieuten- 
ants. Daniel  Woodwell's  wife  died  on  the  18lh,  a  pious  wo- 
man. John  Perry's  wife  died  the  23d.  On  the  26th,  William 
Davly,  of  New  York,  died. 

January  3d,  1747,  Jonathan  Harthan  died.  On  the  12th, 
Phinehas  Andrews,  of  Cape  Ann,  died.  He  was  one  of  the 
twenty  captives,  who,  the  same  night,  had  been  removed  to 
another  prison,  hoping  thereby  to  get  rid  of  the  infection. 
Jacob  Bailey,  brother  to  Capt.  Bailey,  died  the  15th,  and  the 
17th,  Giat  Braban,  Captain  Chapman's  carpenter,  died.  On 
the  23d,  Samuel  Lovet,  son  of  Major  Lovet,  of  Mendon,  in 
New  England,  died. 

February  10th,  William  Garwafs  died,  ako  the  youngest 
child  of  Moses  Scott.  The  15th,  my  nephew,  Daniel  How,  and 
six  more  were  brought  down  from  Montreal  to  Quebec,  viz. 
John  Sunderland,  John  Smith,  Richard  Smith,  William  Scott, 
Philip  Scoffil,  and  Benjamin  Tainter,  son  to  Lieutenant  Tainter' 
of  Westborough  in  New  England.  The  23d,  Richard  Beunet 
died,  and  the  25th,  Michael  Dugon. 
12* 


I  'i 


'I;;' 


I''. 


■  '1  •■ 


%■■ 


I 


l-l' 


138 


NEHEMIAH  HOW'S  CAPTIVITY. 


March  ISth,  James  Margra  died,  and  on  the  22d,  Capt.  John 
Fort  and  Samuel  Goodman ;  the  28th,  the  wife  of  John  Smead 
died,  and  left  six  children,  the  youngest  of  whom  was  born  the 
second  night  after  the  mother  was  taken. 

April  7th,  Philip  Scaffield,  [Scofield  ?]  and  next  day  John 
Saneld,  the  next  day  Capt.  James  Jordan  and  one  of  his  men, 
died.  On  the  12th,  Amos  Pratt,  of  Shrewsbury,  and  on  the 
14th,  Timothy  Cummingfs,  the  17th,  John  Dill,  of  Hull  in  New 
England,  the  18th,  Samuel  Venhon,  of  Plymouth,  died.  On 
the  26th,  Capt.  Jonathan  Williamson  was  brought  to  prison. 
He  was  taken  at  the  new  town  on  Sheepscot  river.  Th  ; 
same  day  came  in,  also,  three  men  who  were  taken  at  Albany, 
three  weeks  before,  and  tell  us  that  thirteen  were  killed,  Capt. 
Trent  being  one.  They  were  all  soldiers  for  the  expedition  to 
Canada.  On  the  27th,  Joseph  Denox,  and  the  28tn,  Samuel 
Evans,  died.  The  same  night  the  prison  took  fire,  and  was 
burnt,  but  the  things  therein  were  mostly  saved.  We  v/ere 
kept  that  night  under  a  guard. 

May  7th,  Sarah  Lydle,  whose  name  was  Braint  when  she 
was  taken,  and  married  while  a  captive,  died,  and  the  13th,  Mr. 
Smead's  son  Daniel  died,  and  Christian  Tether  the  14th.  The 
same  day  died  also  Hezekiah  Huntington,  a  hopeful  youth,  of 
a  liberal  education.  He  was  a  son  of  Colonel  Huntington  of 
Connecticut,  in  New  England.  On  the  15th,  Joseph  Grey, 
and  on  the  19th  Samuel  Burbank,  died.  At  the  same  time 
died  two  children  who  were  put  out  to  the  French  to  nurse. 

At  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from  Major  Willard,  dated 
March  17th,  1747,  wherein  he  informs  me  my  family  were 
well,  which  was  joyful  news  to  me.  May  19th,  Abraham 
Fort  died. 

[Here  ends  the  journal  of  Mr.  How,  exceedingly  valuable 
for  the  many  items  of  exact  intelligence  therein  recorded,  rela- 
tive to  so  Hiany  of  the  present  inhabitants  of  New  England, 
through  those  friends  who  endured  the  hardships  of  captivity 
in  the  mountain  deserts  and  the  damps  of  loathsome  prisons. 
Had  the  author  lived  to  have  returned,  and  published  his  nar- 
rative himself,  he  doubtless  would  have  made  it  far  more  valu- 
able, but  he  was  cut  off  while  a  prisoner,  by  the  prison  fever, 
in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  his  age,  after  a  captivity  of  one  year, 
seven  months,  and  fifteen  days.  He  died  May  25th,  1747,  in 
the  hospital  at  Quebec,  after  a  sicknesf  of  about  ten  days. 
He  was  a  husband  and  father,  and  great  y  beloved  by  all  who 
knew  hira. — Ed.] 


139 


PARTICULARS    RELATING   TO    THE    CAPTIVITY 

OP  JOHN  FITCH,  OP  ASHBY,  MASS.    RELATED  BY  MR.  ENOS 
JONES,  OP  ASHBURNHAM. 

The  town  of  Lunenburg,  in  Massachusetts,  was  incorpo- 
rated August  1,  1728,  and  received  its  name  in  compliment 
to  George  II.,  who,  the  preceding  year,  came  to  the  British 
throne,  and  was   styled  Duke  of  Lunenburg,  having  in  his 
German  dominions  a  town  of  that  name.     On  the  3d  of  Feb- 
ruary i  1764,  a  part  of  Lunenburg  was  detached  and  incorpo- 
rated as  a  distinct  town  by  the  name  of  Fitchburg.     In  1767, 
a  part  of  Fitchburg  was  disannexed  to  aid  in  forming  the  town 
of  Ashby.    Mr.  John  Fitch  lived  on  the  frontiers  of  the  county, 
in  the  tract  now  included  in  Ashby.    After  the  commencement 
of  the  French  and  Indian  war  of  1745,  Fitch  proposed  to  the 
government  to  keep  a  garrison,  with  the  aid  of  three  soldiers, 
who  were  immedwtely  despatched  to  him.     Mr.  Fitch  was  a 
gentleman  of  much  enterprise,  and  had  had  considerable  deal- 
ings with  the  Indians  in  peltries,  furs,  &c.,  and  was  generally 
well  known  among  them.     Soon  after  the  breaking  out  of  the 
war,  they  determined  to  make  him  a  prisoner ;  and  in  July, 
1746-7,  they  came  into  the  vicinity  to  the  number  of  about 
eighty.     The  inhabitants  of  the  garrison  were  Fitch,  his  wife, 
five  children,  and  the  three  soldiers.     One  of  these  last  left 
the  garrison  early  in  the  morning  of  the  disaster,  on  furlough, 
to  visit   a    house    at   the   distance   of   three   or  four   miles. 
Another  went  out  in  quest  of  game.     He  had  not  proceeded 
far  when  he  discovered  the  Indians  crawling  in  the  high  grass 
between  him  and  the  garrison.     He  attempted  to  return,  but 
^  s  instantly  shot  down.     One  soldier  only  remained  with 
Fitch  and  his  family ;  and  they  determined  to  defend  them- 
selves to  the  best  of  their  power.     The  soldier,  whose  name 
was  Jennings,  fired  several  times,  when  an  Indian  shot  him 
through  the  neck,  and  he  fell.     Mrs.  Fitch  regularly  loaded 
the  guns  for  her  husband,  and  they  continued  to  defend  them- 
selves for  some  time ;  when  the  Indians  informed  them  that  if 
they  would  surrender  they  should  have  quarter,  but  if  they 
refused  they  should  perish   in   the  flames   of  the   garrison. 
After  some  cjonsultation  with  his  wife,  Fitch  concluded  to  sur- 
render.    The  Indians   then  burned  the  garrison ;  and  after 
committing  various  mischiefs  in  the  neighborhood,  they  took 
the  captive  family  to  Canada.     Immediately  after  the  garrison 
was  burnt,  Perkins,  the  soldier  on  furlough,  espied  the  smoke, 
and  on  ascending  a  hill  in  the  vicinity  he  could  see  the  ruins. 


^• 


i 


140 


MARY  FOWLER'S  CAPTIVITY. 


He  immediately  gave  the  alarm,  and  in  the  evening  nearly  an 
hundred  had  assembled  in  arms  for  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 
It  being  dark,  however,  they  concluded  to  wait  till  the  fol< 
lowing  morning,  and  ere  day  broke  they  set  out.  After  pro- 
cceding  a  short  distance  in  the  track  of  the  Indians  they  saw 
a  piece  of  paper  tied  to  a  limb  of  a  tree,  which,  on  e.xam- 
ining,  they  found  to  be  in  the  hand-writing  of  Fitch,  request- 
ing  them  by  no  means  to  pursue  him,  as  the  Indians  had 
assured  him  of  safety  if  they  were  not  pursued ;  but  would 
destroy  him  if  his  friends  should  attempt  his  rescue.  Upon 
this  the  party  returned  to  their  homes.  At  the  close  of  the 
war  Fitch  and  his  family  were  liberated ;  and  were  crossing 
the  Connecticut  on  their  return  home,  when  Mrs.  Fitch  took 
cold  and  died.  The  rest  of  the  family  returned,  and  Fitch 
was  afterwards  married  again.  Jennings,  who  was  killed  in 
the  garrison,  was  burnt  in  the  flames.  The  name  of  the  sol- 
dier killed  without  the  garrison  was  Blodget.  The  third  sol- 
dier, whose  name  was  Perkins,  escaped. 


CAPTIVITY  OF  MARY  FOWLER,  OF  HOPKINTON. 

Mary  Fowler,  formerly  Mary  Woodwell,  now  living  in 
Canterbury  in  this  state,  was  born  in  the  town  of  Hopkinton, 
in  Massachusetts,  May  11,  1730.  Her  parents  moved  to  Hop- 
kinton in  this  slate  when  she  was  about  twelve  years  of  age, 
and  settled  on  the  westerly  side  of  what  is  called  Putney's 
Hill. 

On  the  22d  day  of  April,  in  the  year  1746,  while  in  the 
garrison  at  her  father's  house,  six  Indians,  armed  with  mus- 
kets, tomahawks,  knives,  &c.  broke  into  the  garrison  and  took 
eight  persons  while  in  their  beds,  viz.  the  said  Mary,  her 
parents,  two  of  her  brothers,  Benjamin  and  T^  "mas,  Samuel 
Burbank,  an  aged  man,  and  his  two  sons,  Caleb  and  Jonathan. 
They  carried  them  through  the  wilderness  to  St.  Francis  in 
Canada.  Here  Mary  and  Jonathan  Burbank  were  detained 
for  the  term  of  three  years,  (though  not  in  one  family,)  and 
the  other  six  were  carried  prisoners  to  Quebec,  where  Bur- 
bank,  the  aged,  and  Mary's  mother  died  of  the  yellow  fever  in 
prison.     The  other  four  were  afterwards  exchanged. 

The  circumstances  relative  to  their  being  taken  were  as 
follows :  Ten  persons,  viz.  the  eight  above  mentioned,  Samuel 
Evbank'sr  wife  and  a  soldier,  were  secluded  in  the  garrison 
tax  tear  of  being  attacked  by  the  Indians,  who  had  been  fro- 


♦  • 


in 

IS 

el 
^n 


MARY  FOWLER'S  CAPTIVITY. 


141 


quently  scoutinjf  through  Hopkinton  and  the  other  adjacent 
towns.  Early  on  the  morning  of  their  captivity,  Samuel  Bur- 
bank  left  the  garrison  and  went  to  the  barn  m  order  to  feed 
the  cattle  before  the  rest  were  up,  leaving  the  door  unfastened. 
The  Indians,  who  lay  near  in  ambush,  immc^dialely  sallied 
forth  and  took  him.  From  this  affrighted  captive  they  got 
information  that  the  garrison  was  weak,  whereupon  they 
rushed  in,  and  took  them  all,  except  the  soldier  who  escaped, 
and  Burbank's  wife,  who  secreted  nerself  in  the  cellar.  Du- 
ring this  attack  Mary's  mother,  being  closely  embraced  by  a 
sturdy  Indian,  wrested  from  his  sid6  a  long  knife,  with  which 
she  was  in  the  act  of  running  him  through,  when  her  husband 
prevailed  \  'ith*  her  to  desist,  fearing  the  fatal  consequences. 
However,  she  secured  the  deadly  weapon,  and  before  they 
commenced  their  march  threw  it  into  the  well,  from  whence  it 
was  taken  after  the  captives  returned.  Another  Indian  pre- 
sented a  musket  to  Mary's  breast,  intending  to  blow  her 
through,  when  a  chief  by  the  name  of  Pennos,  who  had  pre- 
viously received  numerous  kindnesses  from  her  father's  family, 
instantly  interfered,  and  kept  him  from  his  cruel  design,  taking 
her  for  his  own  captive. 

After  having  arrived  at  St.  Francis,  Pennos  sold  Mary  to  t^ 
squaw  of  another  family,  while  J.  Burbank  continued  in  some 
remote  part  of  the  neighborhood  under  his  own  master.  Ma- 
ry's father  and  brothers,  after  they  were  exchanged,  solicited  a 
contribution  for  her  redemption,  which  was  at  last  obtained 
with  great  difficulty  for  one  hundred  livres,  through  the  strata- 
gem of  a  French  doctor ;  all  previous  efTorts  made  by  her 
father  and  brothers  having  failed.  This  tender  parent,  though 
reduced  to  poverty  by  the  savages,  and  having  no  pecuniary 
assistance  except  what  he  received  through  the  hand  of  charity 
from  his  distant  friends,  had  frequently  visited  St.  F;ancis  in 
order  to  have  an  interview  with  his  only  daughter,  and  to 
compromise  with  her  mistress,  offering  her  a  large  sum  for 
Mary's  redemption,  but  all  to  no  effect.  She  refused  to  let  her 
go  short  of  her  weight  in  silver.  Moreover,  Mary  had  pre- 
viously been  told  by  her  mistress  that  if  she  intimated  a  word 
to  her  father  that  she  wanted  to  go  home  with  him,  she  should 
never  see  his  face  again ;  therefore,  when  interrogated  by  him 
on  this  subject,  she  remained  silent,  through  fear  of  worse 
treatment ;  yet  she  could  not  conceal  her  grief,  for  her  internal 
agitation  and  distress  of  mind  caused  the  tears  to  flow  pro- 
fusely from  her  eyes.  Her  father,  at  length,  worn  out  with 
frief  and  toil,  retired  to  Montreal,  where  he  contracted  with  a 
'renchman  as  an  agent  to  effect,  if  possible,  the  purchase  of 
his  daughter.     This  agent,  after  having  attempted  a  compro- 


n 

WM 

T 

■I  J 

,■- 1. 

y 

142 


MARY  FOWLER'S  CAPTIVITY. 


it:'. 


I 


mise  several  times  in  vain,  employed  a  French  physician,  who 
was  in  high  reputation  among  the  Indians,  to  assist  him.  ^The 
doctor,  under  a  cloak  of  friendship,  secretly  advised  Mary  to 
feign  herself  sick,  as  the  only  alternative,  and  gave  her  medi- 
cine for  the  purpose.  This  doctor  was  soon  called  upon  for 
medical  aid ;  and  although  he  appeared  to  exert  the  utmost 
of  his  skill,  yet  his  patient  continued  to  grow  worse.  After 
making  several  visits  to  no  effect,  he  at  length  gave  her  over 
as  being  past  recovery,  advising  her  niistress,  as  a  real  friend, 
to  sell  her  the  first  opportunity  for  what  she  could  get,  feven  if 
it  were  but  a  small  sum;  otherwise,  said  he,  she  will' die  on 
your  hands,  and  you  must  lose  her.  The  squaw,  alarmed  at 
the  doctor's  ceremony,  and  the  dangerous  apjjfearance  of  her 
captive,  immediately  contracted  with  the  French  agent  for  one 
hundred  livres ;  whereupon  Mary  soon  began  to  amend ;  and 
was  shortly  after  conveyed  to  Montreal,  where  she  continued 
six  months  longer  among  the  French  waiting  for  a  passpott; 

Thus  after  having  been  compelled  to  three  years'  hard  labor 
in  planting  and  hoeing  corn,  chopping  and  carrying  wood, 
pounding  sapip,  gathering  cranberries  and  other  wild  fruit  for 
the  market, ^ib.»  this  young  woman  was  at  length  redeemed 

ifisom  the  merciless  hands  and  cruel  servitude  of  the  savages, 
who  had  not  only  wrested  her  from  her  home,  but  also  from 
the  tender  embraces  of  her  parents,  and  from  all  social  inter- 
course with  her  friends. 

Jonathan  Burbank  was  redeemed  about  the  same  time — ^be- 
came an  officer,  and  was  afterwards  killed  by  the  Indians  in 
the  French  war.  These  sons  of  the  forest  supposing  him  to 
have  been  Rogers,  their  avowed  enemy,  rushed  upon  him  and 
slew  him  without  ceremony,  after  he  had  given  himself  up  as 
a  prisoner  of  war. 

,  After  six  months'  detention  among  the  French  at  Montreal, 
Mary  was  conveyed  (mostly  by  water)  to  Albany  by  the  Dutch, 
who  had  proceeded  to  Canada  in  order  to  redeem  their  black 
slaves,  whom  the  Indians  had  previously  taken  and  carried 
thither ;  from  thence  she  was  conducted  to  the  place  of  her 
nativity,  where  she  continued  about  five  years,  and  was  mar- 
ried to  one  Jesse  Corbett,  by  whom  she  had  two  sons.  From 
thence  they  moved  to  Hopkinton  in  this  state,  to  the  place 
where  Mary  had  been  taken  by  the  Indians.  Corbett,  her 
husband,  was  drowned  in  Almsbury  river,  (now  Warner  river,) 
in  Hopkinton,  in  the  year  1759,  in  attempting  to  swim  across 
the  river — was  carried  down  into  the  Contoocook,  thence  into 
the  Merrimack,  and  was  finally  taken  up  in  Dunstable  with 
his  clothes  tied  fast  to  his  head.  Mary  was  afterwards  married 
to  a  Jeremiah  Fowler,  by  whom  she  had  five  children.     She 


MRS.  M'COY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


143 


is  now  living  in  Canterbury,  in  the  enjoyment  of  good  health 
and  ripmarkable  powers  of  mind,  beings  in  the  ninety-third  year 
of  her  age.  The  foregoing  narrative  was  written  a  few  weeks 
since  as  she  related  it. 


NARRATIVE 


* 


OP  THEfCAPTIVITY  OP  MRS.  ISABELLA  M'COY,  WHO  WAS  TA- 
KEN  CAPTIVE  AT  EPSOM,  N.  H.,  IN  THE  YEAR  1747.  COL- 
LECTED FROM  THE  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  AGED  PEOPLE  WHO 
KNEW  HER,  BY  THE  REV.  JONATHAN  CURTIS,  A  MINISTER 
'  OP  THAT  TOWN,  ABOUT  SEVENTEEN  YEARS  AGO,  AND  BY 
HIM  COMMUNICATED  TO  THE  PUBLISHERS  OF  THE  NEW 
HAMPSHIRE  HISTORICAL  COLLECTIONS. 
^'  ^        .- 

,  The  Indians  were  first  attracted  to  the  new  settlements  in 
the  town  of  Epsom,  N.  H.,  by  discovering  M'Coy  at  Suncook, 
now  Pembroke.  This,  as  nearly  as  can  be  ascertained,  was  in 
the  year  1747.  Reports  were  spread  of  the  de|ii0dations  of 
the  Indians  in  various  places ;  and  M'Coy  had  heard  that  the_ 
had  been  seen  lurking  about  the  woods  at  Penacook,  now  Con 
cord.  He  went  as  far  as  Pembroke ;  ascertained  that  they 
were  in  the  ^cinity ;  was  somewhere  discovered  by  them,  and 
followed  home.  They  told  his  wife,  whom  they  afterwards 
made  prisonet,  that  they  looked  through  cracks  around  the 
house,  and  saw  what  they  had  for  supper  that  night.  They 
however  did  not  discover  themselves  till  the  second  day  after. 
They  probably  wished  to  take  a  little  time  to  learn  the  strength 
and  preparation  of  the  inhabitants.  The  next  day,  Mrs. 
M'Coy,  attended  by  their  two  dogs,  went  down  to  see  if  any  of 
the  other  families  had  returned  from  the  garrison.  She  found 
no  one.  On  her  return,  as  she  was  passing  the  block-house, 
which  stood  near  the  present  site  of  the  meeting-house,  the 
dogs,  which  had  passed  round  it,  came  running  back  growling 
and  very  much  excited.  Their  appearance  induced  her  to 
make  the  best  of  her  way  home.  The  Indians  afterwards  told 
her  that  they  then  lay  concealed  there,  and  saw  the  dogs,  when 
they  came  round. 

M'Coy,  being  now  strongly  suspicious  that  the  Indians  were 
actually  in  the  town,  determined  to  set  off  the  next  day  with 
his  family  for  the  garrison  at  Nottingham.  His  family  now 
consisted  of  himself,  his  wife,  and  son  John.  The  younger 
children  were  still  at  the  garrison.  They  accordingly  secured 
their  house  as  well  as  they  could,  and  all  set  off  next  m^crning; 


.■•-* 


"1#- 


144 


MRS.  M'COY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I 


I 


— M'Coy  and  his  son  with  their  guns,  though  without  ammu- 
nition, having  fired  away  what  they  brought  with  them  in 
hunting. 

As  they  were  travelling  a  little  distance  east  of  the  place 
where  the  meeting-house  now  stands,  Mrs.  M'Coy  fell  a  little 
in  the  rear  of  the  others.  This  circumstance  gave  the  Indians 
a  favorable  opportunity  for  separating  her  from  her  husband 
and  son.  The  Indians,  three  men  and  a  boy,  lay  in  ambush 
near  the  foot  of  Marden's  hill,  not  far  from  the  junction  of  the 
mountain  road  with  the  main  road.  Here  they  suflfered  M'Coy 
and  his  son  to  pass ;  but,  as  his  wife  was  passing  them,  they 
reached  from  the  bushes,  and  took  hold  of  her,  charging  her 
to  make  no  noise,  and  covering  her  mouth  with  their  hands,  as 
she  cried  to  her  husband  for  assistance.  Her  husband,  hearing 
her  cries,  turned,  and  was  about  coming  to  her  relief.  But  he 
no  sooner  began  to  advance,  than  the  Indians,  expecting  proba- 
bly that  he  would  fire  upon  them,  began  to  raise  their  pieces, 
which  she  pushed  one  side,  and  motioned  to  her  friends  to 
make  their  escape,  knowing  that  their  guns  were  not  loaded, 
and  that  they  would  doubtless  be  killed,  if  they  approached. 
They  according  ran  into  the  woods  and  made  their  escape  to 
the  garrison.     This  took  place  August  21,  1747. 

The  Indians  then  collected  together  what  booty  they  could 
obtain,  which  consisted  of  an  iron  trammel,  from  Mr.  George 
Wallace's,  the  apples  of  the  only  tree  which  ^r^  in  town, 
which  was  in  the  orchard  now  owned  by  Mr.  David*  Griffin, 
and  some  other  trifling  articles,  and  prepared  to  Set  off  with 
their  prisoner  for  Canada. 

Before  they  took  their  departure,  they  conveyed  Mrs.  M'Coy 
to  a  place  near  the  little  Suncook  river,  where  they  left  her  in 
the  care  of  the  young  Indian,  while  the  three  men,  whose 
names  were  afterwards  ascertained  to  be  Plausawa,''*'  Sabatis, 
and  Christi,  went  away,  and  were  for  some  time  absent.  Dur- 
ing their  absence,  Mrs.  M'Coy  thought  of  attempting  to  make 
her  escape.  She  saw  opportunities,  when  she  thought  she 
might  dispatch  the  young  Indian  with  the  trammel,  which, 
with  other  things,  was  left  with  them,  and  thus  perhaps  avoid 
some  strange  and  barbarous  death,  or  a  long  and  distressing 
captivity.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  she  knew  not  at  what  dis- 
tance the  others  were.  If  she  attempted  to  kill  her  young 
keeper,  she  might  fail.  If  she  effected  her  purpose  in  this,  she 
might  be  pursued  and  overtaken  by  a  cruel  and  revengeful  foe, 
and  then  some  dreadful  death  would  be  her  certain  portion. 


*  These  were  of  the  Arosaguntacook  or  St.  Francis  tribe, 
knap's  Hist.  N.  H.  vol.  ii.  p.  278. 


See  Bel- 


On  tl 

mind  \ 

captivi 

end  fo 

tion  ir 

appear 

told  til 

Plausa 

her  the 

The; 

Canada 

and  cor 

find  the 

But,  in 

agreeab 

them  w 

were  sc 

they  ha( 

lay.     Ii 

Ohampli 

that  Iak( 

on  whic] 

name  be 

of  mitigi 

tedious  j 

repose  ih 

man,  woi 

theirs,  co 

suffered 

to  a  river 

over  on  1 

ever  offer 

carried  h 

family,  w 

But  so  coi 

being  a  mi 

she  never 

were  it  no 

After  tl 

visited  the 

tions.     Tl] 

the  inhabi 

At  the  tin 

♦The  wri 
the  bumiog  < 


MRS.  M'COY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


145 


as 


Issmg 


Bel- 


On  the  whole,  she  thought  best  to  endeavor  to  prepare  her 
mind  to  bear  what  might  be  no  mere  than  a  period  of  savage 
captivity.  Soon,  however,  the  Indians  returned,  and  put  an 
end  for  the  present  to  all  thoughts  of  escape.  From  the  direc- 
tion in  wi  ich  they  went  and  returned,  and  from  their  smutty 
appearance,  she  suspected  what  their  business  had  been.  She 
told  them  she  guessed  they  had  been  burning  her  house. 
Plausawa,  who  could  speak  some  broken  English,  informed 
her  they  had.* 

They  now  commenced  their  long  and  tedious  journey  to 
Canada,  in  which  the  poor  captive  might  well  expect  that  great 
and  complicated  sufferings  would  be  her  lot.  She  did  indeed 
find  the  journey  fatiguing,  and  her  fare  scanty  and  precarious. 
But,  in  her  treatment  from  the  Indians,  she  experienced  a  very 
agreeable  disappointment.  The  kindness  she  received  from 
them  was  far  greater  than  she  had  expected  from  those  who 
were  so  often  distinguished  for  their  cruelties.  The  apples 
they  had  gathered  they  saved  for  her,  giving  her  one  every 
lay.  In  this  way,  they  lasted  her  as  far  on  the  way  as  lake 
Ohamplain.  They  gave  her  the  last,  as  they  were  crossing 
that  lake  in  their  canoes.  This  circumstance  gave  to  the  tree, 
on  which  the  apples  grew,  the  name  of  " IsabelVs  tree"  her 
name  being  Isabella.  In  many  ways  did  they  appear  desirous 
of  mitigating  the  distresses  of  their  prisoner  while  on  their 
tedious  journey.  When  night  came  on,  and  they  halted  to 
repose  themselves  in  the  dark  wildflrness,  Plausawa,  the  head 
man,  would  make  a  little  couch  in  the  leaves  a  little  way  from 
theirs,  cover  her  up  with  his  own  blanket ;  and  there  she  .was 
suffered  to  sleep  undisturbed  till  morning.  When  they  came 
to  a  river,  which  must  be  forded,  one  of  them  would  carry  her 
over  on  his  back.  Nothing  like  insult  or  indecency  did  they 
ever  offer  her  during  the  whole  time  she  was  with  them.  They 
carried  her  to  Canada,  and  sold  her  as  a  servant  to  a  French 
family,  whence,  at  the  close  of  that  war,  she  returned  home. 
Bui  so  comfortable  was  her  condition  there,  and  her  husband 
being  a  man  of  rather  a  rough  and  violent  temper,  she  declared 
she  never  should  have  thought  of  attempting,  the  journey  home, 
were  it  not  for  the  sake  of  her  children. 

After  the  capture  of  Mrs.  M'Coy,  the  Indians  frequently 
visited  the  town,  but  never  committed  any  very  great  depreda- 
tions. The  greatest  damage  they  ever  did  to  the  property  of 
the  inhabitants  was  the  spoiling  of  all  the  ox-teams  in  town. 
At  the  time  referred  to,  there  were  but  four  yoke  of  oxen  in 

*The  writer  has  a  piece  of  the  iron>ware,  which  was  melted  dowii  in. 
the  burning  of  the  house. 

13 


» 


c 


♦^j 


IB 


m 


\m\ 


146 


MRS.  M'COY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


.JS^' 


■«  ft- 


the  place,  viz.  M'Coy's,  Capt.  M'Clary's,  George  Wallace's, 
and  Lieut.  Blake's.  It  was  a  time  of  ajtprehension  from  the 
Indians ;  and  the  inhabitants  had  therefore  all  fled  to  the  gar- 
rison at  Nottingham.  They  left  their  oxen  to  graze  about  the 
woods,  with  a  bell  upon  one  of  them.  The  Indians  found  them, 
shot  one  out  of  each  yoke,  took  out  their  tongues,  made  a 
prize  of  the  bell,  and  left  them. 

The  ferocity  and  cruelty  of  the  savages  were  doubtless  very 
much  averted  ly  a  friendly,  conciliating  course  of  conduct  in 
the  inhabitants  towards  them.  This  was  particularly  the  case 
in  the  course  pursued  by  sergeant  Blake.  Being  himself  a 
curious  marksman  and  an  expert  hunter,  traits  of  character  in 
their  view  of  the  highest  order,  he  soon«6ecured  their  respect; 
and,  by  a  course  of  kind  treatment,  he  secured  their  friendship 
to  such  a  degree,  that,  though  they  had  opportunities,  they 
would  not  injure  him  even  in  time  of  war. 

The  first  he  ever  saw  of  them  was  a  company  of  them  mak- 
ing towards  his  house,  through  the  opening  from  the  top  of 
Sanborn's  hill.  He  fled  to  the  woods,  and  there  lay  concealed, 
till  they  had  made  a  thorough  search  about  his  house  and  en- 
closures, and  had  gone  off.  The  next  time  his  visitors  came, 
he  was  constrained  to  become  more  acquainted  with  them,  and 
to  treat  them  with  more  attention.  As  he  was  busily  engaged 
towards  the  close  of  the  day  in  completing  a  yard  for  his  cow, 
the  declining  sun  suddenly  threw  along  several  enormous  sha- 
dows on  the  ground  before  him.  He  had  no  sooner  turned  to 
see  the  cause,  than  he  found  himself  in  the  company  of  a 
number  of  stately  Indians.  Seeing  his  perturbation,  they  pat- 
ted him  on  the  head,  and  told  him  not  to  be  afraid,  for  they 
would  not  hurt  him.  They  then  went  with  him  into  his 
house ;  and  their  first  business  was  to  search  all  his  bottles  to 
see  if  he  had  any  "  occapee,^^  rum.  They  then  told  him  they 
were  very  hungry,  and  wanted  something  to  eat.  He  happened 
to  have  a  quarter  of  a  bear,  which  he  gave  them.  They  took 
it  and  threw  it  whole  upon  the  fire,  and  very  soon  began  to 
cut  and  eat  from  it  half  raw.  While  they  were  eating,  he 
employed  himself  in  cutting  pieces  from  it,  and  broiling  upon 
a  stick  for  them,  which  pleased  them  very  much.  After  their 
repast,  they  wished  for  the  privilege  of  lying  by  his  fire  through 
the  night,  which  he  granted.  The  next  morning,  they  pro- 
posed trying  skill  with  him  in  firing  at  a  mark.  To  this  he 
acceded.  But  in  this,  finding  themselves  outdone,  they  were 
much  astonished  and  chagrined  ;  neve-'.heless  thej""  highly 
commended  him  for  his  skill,  patting  him  oo  the  head,  and 
telling  him  if  he  wovld  go  off  with  them  they  would  make  him. 


CAPTIVITY  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


147 


ky  were 
highly 

|ad,  and 
ike  him 


their  big  captain.     They  used  often  to  call  upon  him,  and  his 
kindness  to  them  th4y  never  lorgot  even  in  time  of  war. 

Plausawa  had  a  peculiar  manner  of  doubling  his  lip,  and 
producing  a  very  shrill  piercirg  whistle,  which  might  be  heard 
a  great  distance.  At  a  time,  when  considerable  danger  was 
apprehended  from  the  Indians,  Blake  went  off  into  the  woods 
alone,  though  considered  hazardous,  to  look  for  his  cow,  that 
was  missing.  As  he  was  passing  along  by  Sinclair's  brook, 
an  unfrequented  place,  northerly  from  M'Coy's  mountain,  a 
very  loud  sharp  whistle,  which  he  knew  to  be  Plausawa's, 
suddenly  passed  through  his  head,  like  the  report  of  a  pistol. 
The  sudden  alarm  almost  raised  him  froia  the  ground ;  and, 
with  a  very  light  step,  he  soon  reached  home  without  his  cow. 
In  more  peaceable  times,  Plausawa  asked  him  if  he  did  not 
remember  the  time,  and  laughed  very  much  to  think  how  he 
ran  at  the  fright,  and  told  him  the  reason  for  his  whistling. 
•»  Young  Indian,^'  said  he,  "  put  up  gun  to  shoot  Englishman. 
Me  knock  it  doion,  and  whistle  to  start  you  off.^^  So  lasting  is 
their  friendship,  when  treated  well.  At  the  close  of  the  wars, 
the  Indians  built  several  wigwams  near  the  confluence  of  Wal- 
lace's brook  with  the  great  Suncook.  On  &4ittteisland  in  this 
river,  near  the  place  called  "  short  falls,"  one  of  them  lived 
for  a  considerable  time.  Plausawa  and  Sabatis  were  finally 
both  killed  in  time  of  peace  by  one  of  the  whites,  after  a  drunk- 
en  quarrel,  and  buried  near  a  certain  brook  in  Boscawen. 


A    FAITHFUL    NARRATIVE     ' 

OP  THE  SUFFERINGS  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON,  WHO  SETTLED 
NEAR  THE  PORKS  OP  THE  DELAWARE  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 
HAVING  BEEN  TAKEN  BY  THE  INDIANS  IN  hIS  OWN 
HOUSE,  OCTOBER  2d,  1754.— WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF. 

I  WAS  born  within  ten  miles  of  the  town  of  Aberdeen,  in  the 
north  of  Scotland,  of  reputable  parents.  At  eight  years  of  age, 
being  a  sturdy  boy,  I  was  taken  notice  of  by  two  fellows  be- 
londng  to  a  vessel,  employed  (as  the  trade  then  was)  by  some 
of  the  worthy  merchants  of  Aberdeen  in  that  villanous  ^irid 
execrable  practice  of  stealing  young  children  from  their  parents, 
and  selling  them  as  slaves  in  the  plantations  abroad,  and  on 
board  the  ship  I  was  easily  cajoled  by  them,  wb3re  I  was  con- 
ducted between  u  3,  to  some  others  they  had  kidnapped  in 
the  same  manner,  and  in  about  a  month's  time  set  sail  for 
America.     When  arrived  at  Philadelphia,  the  captain  sold  us 


f 

m 


^  H 


1  -"?P5t 


•;> 


r 


^'W^ 


148 


CAPTIVITY  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


^ 


11 


a*  about  sixteen  pounds  per  head.  Wliat  bf  'ngne  of  my  un- 
happy companions  I  never  knew ;  but  it  was  my  lot  to  be  sold 
for  seven  years,  to  one  of  my  countrymen,  who  had  in  his 
youth  been  kidnapped  like  myself,  but  from  another  town. 

Having  no  children  of  his  own,  and  commiserating  my  con- 
''■♦ion,  he  took  care  of  me,  indulged  me  in  going  to  school, 

Jere  I  went  every  winter  for  five  years,  and  made  a  tolerable 
loficiency.  With  this  good  master  I  continued  till  he  died, 
and,  as  a  reward  for  my  faithful  service,  he  left  me  two  hun- 
dred pounds  currency,  which  was  then  about  an  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds  sterling,  his  best  horse,  saddle,  and  all  his 
wearing  apparel. 

Being  now  seventeen  years  old,  and  my  own  master,  having 
money  in  my  pocket,  and  all  other  necessaries,  I  employed 
myself  in  jobbing  for  near  seven  years ;  when  I  resolved  to 
settle,  and  married  the  daughter  of  a  substantial  planter.  My 
father-in-law  made  me  a  deed  of  gift  of  a  tract  of  land  that  lay 
(unhappily  for  me,  as  it  has  since  proved)  on  the  frontiers  of 
the  province  of  Pennsylvania,  near  the  forks  of  Delaware, 
containing  about  t\ro  hundred  acres,  thirty  of  which  were  well 
cleared  and  fit  for  immediate  use,  on  which  were  a  good  house 
il  &nd  barn.  The  place  pleasing  me  well,  I  settled  on  it.  My 
money  I  expended  in  buying  stock,  household  furniture,  and 
implements  for  out-of-door  work  ;  and  being  happy  in  a  good 
wife,  my  felicity  was  complete :  but  in  17r>4,  the  Indians,  who 
#>ihad  for  a  long  time  before  ravaged  and  destroyed  other  parts 
of  America  unmolested,  began  now  to  be  very  troublesome  on 
the  frontiers  of  our  province,  where  they  generally  appeared  in 
small  skulking  parties,  committing  great  devastations. 

Terrible  and  shocking  to  human  nature  were  the  barbarities 
daily  committed  by  these  savages  !  Scarce  did  a  day  pass  but 
*  #  some  unhappy  family  or  other  fell  victims  to  savage  cruelty. 
Terrible,  indeed,  it  proved  to  me,  as  well  as  to  many  others.  I, 
that  was  now  happy  in  an  easy  state  of  life,  blessed  with  an 
afiectionate  and  tender  wife,  became  on  a  sudden  one  of  the 
most  unhappy  of  mankind :  scarce  can  I  sustain  the  shock 
which  forever  recurs  on  recollecting  the  fatal  second  of  Octo- 
ber, 1754.  My  wife  that  day  went  from  home,  to  visit  some 
of  her  relations ;  as  I  staid  up  later  than  usual,  expecting  her 
return,  none  being  in  the  house  besides  myself,  how  gr^at  was 
my  surprise  and  terror,  when,  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  I 
heard  the  dismal  war-whoop  of  the  savages,  and  found  that  my 
house  was  beset  by  them.  I  flew  to  my  chamber  window,  and 
perceived  them  to  be  twelve  in  number.  Having;  my  gun 
loaded,  I  threatened  them  with  death,  if  they  did  not  retire. 
But  how  vain  ana  fruitless  are  the  efforts  of  one  man  agamst 


4  a 


CAPTIVITY  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


149 


the  united  force  of  so  many  blood-thirsty  monsters  !  One  o^ 
them  that  couM  speak  English  threatened  me  in  return,  "that 
if  I  did  not  come  out  they  would  burn  me  alive,"  adding,  how- 
ever, "  that  if  I  would  come  out  and  surrender  myself  prisoner 
they  would  not  kill  me."  In  such  deplorable  circumstances,  I 
chose  to  rely  on  their  promises,  rather  than  meet  death  by 
rejecting  them ;  and  accordingly  went  out  of  the  house,  with 
my  gun  in  my  hand,  not  knowing  that  I  had  it.  Immediately 
on  my  approach  they  rushed  on  me  like  tigers,  and  instantly 
disarmed  me.  Having  me  thus  in  their  power,  they  bound  me 
to  a  tree,  went  into  the  house,  plundered  it  of  every  thing  they 
could  carry  off,  and  then  set  fire  to  it,  and  consumed  what  was 
left  before  my  eyes. ,  Not  satisfied  with  this,  they  set  fire  to 
my  barn,  stable,  and  out-houses,  wherein  were  about  two  hun- 
dred bushels  of  wheat,  six  cows,  four  horses,  and  five  sheep,  all 
which  were  consumed  to  ashes. 

Having  thus  finished  the  execrable  business  about  which 
they  came,  one 'of  the  monsters  came  to  me  with  a  tomahawk 
and  threatened  me  with  the  worst  of  deaths  if  I  would  not  go 
with  them.  This  I  agreed  to,  and  then  they  untied  me,  and 
gave  me  a  load  to  carry,  under  which  I  travelled  all  that  night, 
full  of  the  most  terrible  apprehensions,  lest  my  unhappy  wife 
should  likewise  have  fallen  into  their  cruel  power.  At  day- 
break my  infernal  masters  ordered  me  \o  lay  down  my  load, 
when,  tymg  my  hands  again  round  a  tree,  they  forced  the  blood 
out  at  my  fingers'  ends.  And  then  kindling  a  fire  near  the 
tree  to  which  I  was  bound,  the  most  dreadful  agonies  seized 
me,  concluding  1  was  going  to  be  made  a  sacrifice  to  their 
barbarity.  The  fire  being  made,  they  for  some  time  danced 
round  me  after  their  manner,  whooping,  hollowing  and  shriek- 
ing in  a  frightful  manner.  Being  satisfied  with  this  sort  of 
mirth,  they  proceeded  in  another  manner :  taking  the  burning 
coals,  and  sticks  flaming  with  fire  at  thf  ends,  holding  them  to 
my  face,  head,  hands,  and  feet,  and  at  the  same  time  threaten- 
ing to  burn  me  entirely  if  I  cried  out.  Thus  tortured  as  I  was, 
almost  to  death,  I  suffered  their  brutalities,  without  being  al- 
lowed to  vent  my  anguish  otherwise  than  by  shedding  silent 
tears ;  and  these  being  observed,  they  took  fresh  coals  and 
applied  them  neir  my  eyes,  telling  me  my  face  was  wet,  and 
that  they  would  dry  it  for  me,  which  indeed  they  cruelly  did. 
How  I  underwent  these  tortures  has  been  matter  of  wonder  to 
me,  but  God  enabled  me  to  wait  with  more  than  common 
patience  for  the  deliverance  I  daily  prayed  for. 

At  length  they  sat  down  round  the  fire,  and  roasted  the  meat, 
of  which  they  had  robbed  my  dwelling.     When  they  had  sap- 
ped, they  offered  some  to  me ;  though  it  may  easily  be  imagined 
13* 


•.*i 


L 


<• 


^ 

i 


■0  .^' 


'W   \ 


«&. 


IJSO 


,inrTfn\ 


CAFTIVITy  OF  PETl^R  WILLIAMSOIJf. 


I  had  but  little  appetite  to  eat,  after  the  tortures  and  miseries  I 
had  suflfered,  yet  was  I  forced  to  seem  pleased  with  what  they 
ofiered  me,  lest  by  refusing  it  they  should  reassume  their  hel- 
U|h  practices.  What  I  could  not  eat  I  contrived  to  hide,  they 
having  unbound  me  till  they  imagined  I  had  eat  all ;  but  then 
they  bound  me  as  before ;  in  which  deplorable  condition  I  was 
forced  to  continue  the  whole  day.  When  the  sun  was  set,  they 
put  out  the  fire,  and  covered  the  ashes  with'leaves,  as  is  their 
usual  custom,  that  the  white  people  might  not  discover  any 
traces  fd.  their  having  been  there. 

Going  from  thence  along  the  Susquehannji,  for  the  space  of 
six  miles,  loaded  as  I  was  before,  we  arrived  at  a  spot  near  the 
Apalachian  mountains,  or  Blue  hills,  where  they  hid  their 
plunder  under  logs  of  wood.  From  thence  they  proceeded  to 
a  neighboring  house,  occupied  by  one  Jacob  Snider  and  his 
unhappy  family,  consisting  of  his  wife,  five  children,  and  a 
younfl^  man  his  servant.  They  soon  got  admittance  into  the 
unfortunate  man's  house,  where  they  immediately,  without  the 
least  remorse,  scalped  both  parents  and  children ;  nor  could  the 
tears,  the  shrieks,  or  cries  of  poor  innocer.t  children  prevent 
their  horrid  massacre.  Having  thus  scalped  them,  and  plun- 
dered the  house  of  every  thing  that  was  movable,  they  set  fire 
to  it,  and  left  the  distressed  victims  amidst  the  flames. 

Thinking  the  young  man  belonging  to  this  unhappy  family 
would  be  of  service  to  them  in  carrying  part  of  their  plunder, 
they  spared  his  life,  and  loaded  him  and  myself  with  what  they 
had  here  got,  and  again  marched  to  the  Blue  hills,  where  they 
stowed  their  goods  as  before.  My  fellow-sufferer  could  not 
support  the  cruel  treatment  which  we  were  obliged  to  suffer, 
and  complaining  bitterly  to  me  of  his  being  unable  to  proceed 
any  farther,  I  endeavored  to  animate  him,  but  all  in  vain,  for 
he  still  continued  his  moans  and  tears,  which  one  of  the  sava- 
ges perceiving,  as  we  travelled  along,  came  up  to  us,  and  with 
his  tomahawk  gave  him  a  blow  on  the  head,  which  felled  the 
unhappy  youth  fo  the  ground,  whom  they  immediately  scalped 
and  left.  The  suddenness  of  this  murder  shocked  me  to  that 
degree,  that  I  was  in  a  manner  motionless,  expecting  my  fate 
would  soon  be  the  same :  however,  recovering  my  distracted 
thoughts,  I  dissembled  my  anguish  as  well  as  I  could  from  the 
barbarians ;  but  still,  such  was  my  terror,  that  for  some  time  I 
scarce  knew  the  days  of  the  week,  or  what  I  did. 

They  still  kept  on  their  course  near  the  mountains,  where 
tLey  lay  skulking  four  or  five  days,  rejoicing  at  the  plunder 
they  had  got.  When  provisions  became  scarce,  they  made 
their'  way  toward^  Susquehanna,  and  passing  near  another 
house,  inhabited  by  an  old  man,  whose  name  was  John  Adams, 


.,•1* 


*, 


CAPTIVITY  OP  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


151 


with  his  wife  and  four  small  children,  and  meeting  with  no 
resistance,  they  immediately  scalped  the  mother  and  her  chil- 
dren before  the  old  man's  eyes.     Inhuman  and  horrid  as  this 
was,  it  did  not  satisfy  them ;  for  When  they  had  murdered  the 
poor  woman,  they  acted  with  her  in  such  a  brutal  manner  lis 
decency  will  not  permit  me  to  mention.     The  unhappy  hus- 
band, not  being  able  to  avoid  the  sight,  entreated  them  to  p  "" 
an  end  'o  his  miserable  btnng;  but  they  Were  as  deaf  to  the 
tears  and  entreaties  of  this  venerable  sufferer  as  they  had  been 
to  those  of  the  others,  and  proceeded  to  burn  and  destroy  his 
house,  barn,  corn,  hay,  cattle,  and  every  thing  the  poor  man  a 
few  hours  beforer  was  master  of.     Having  saved  what  they 
thought  proper  from  the  flames,  they  gave  the  old  man,  feeblei 
weak>  and  in  the  miserable  condition  he  then  was,  as  well  as 
myself,  burdens  to  carry,  and  loading  themselves  likewise  with 
bread    and  meat,  pursued  their  journey  towards  the  Great 
swamp.     Here  they  lay  for  eight  or  nine  days,  diverting  them- 
selves, at  time?^  in  barbarous  cruelties  on  the  old  man :  some- 
times ihey  would  strip  him  naked,  and  paint  him  all  over  with 
Various  sorts  of  colors ;  at  other  timec;  they  would  pluck  the 
White  hairs  from  his  head,  and  tauntingly  tell  him  he  was  a 
fool  for  living  so  long,  and  that  they  should  show  him  kindness 
in  putting  him  out  of  the  world.     In  vain  were  all  his  tears, 
foip  daily  did  they  tire  themselves  with  the  various  m^ans  they 
tried  to  torment  him;    sometimes  tying  him  to  a  tree,  and 
whipping  him  ;  at  other  times,  scorching  his  furrowed  cheek 
with  red-hot  coals,  and  burning  his  legs  quite,  to  the  knees. 
One  night,  after  he  had  been  thus  tormented,  whilst  he  and  I 
were  condoling  each  other  at  the  miseries  we  daily  suffered, 
twenty-five  other  Indians  arrived,  bringing  with  thiem  twenty 
scalps  and  three  prisoners,  who  had  unhappily  fallen  into  their 
hands  in  Conogocheague,  a  small  town  near  the  river  Susque- 
hanna, chiefly  inhabited  by  the  Irish.     These  prisoners  gave 
us  some  shocking  accounts  of  the  murders  and  devastations 
committed  in  their  parts ;  a  few  instances  of  which  will  en- 
able the  reader  to  guess  at  the  treatment  the  provincials  have 
suffered  for  years  past.     This  party,  who  now  joined  us,  had 
it  not,  I  found,  in  their  power  to*  begin  their  violences  so  soon 
as  those  who  visited  my  habitation  ;  the  first  of  their  tragedies 
being  on  the  25th  of  October,  1754,  when  John  Lewis,  with 
his  wife  and  three  small  children,  were  inhumanly  scalped  and 
murdered,  and  his  house,  barn,  and  every  thing  he  possessed 
burnt  and  destroyed.     On  the  28th,  Jacob  Miller,  with  his  wife 
afild  six  of  his  family,  with  every  thing  on  his  plantations, 
shared  the  same  fate.     The  30th,  the  house,  mill,  bam,  twenty 
heftd  of  djtttle',  two  teatns'of  horses,  and  every  thing  belonging 


■^C' 


14B 


CAPTIVITY  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


<r,. 


fi 


•  to  George  Folke,  met  with  the  like  treatment,  himself,  wife, 
and  all  his  miserable  family,  consisting  of  nine  in  number,  being 
S(!alped,  then  cut  in  pieces  and  given  to  the  swine.  One  of 
the  substantial  traders,  belonging  to  the  province,  having  bust* 
ness  that  called  him  some  miles  up  the  country,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  those  ruffians,  who  not  only  scalped  him,  but  imme- 
diately roasted  him  before  he  wan  dead ;  then,  like  cannibals, 
for  want  of  other  food,  eat  his  whole  body,  and  of  his  head 
made,  what  tliey  called,  an  Indian  pudding. 

From  these  few  instances  of  savage  cruelty,  the  deplorable 
situation  of  the  defenceless  inhabitants,  and  what  they  hourly 
suffered  in  that  part  of  the  globe,  must  strike  the  utmost  hor- 
ror, and  cause  in  every  breast  the  utmost  detestation,  not  only 
against  the  authors,  but  against  those  who,  through  inatten- 
tion, or  pusillanimous  or  erroneous  principles,  suffered  these 
savages  at  first,  unrepelled,  or  even  unmolested,  to  comntit 
such  outrages,  depredations,  and  murders. 

The  three  prisoners  that  were  brought  with  these  additional 
forces,  constantly  repining  at  their  lot,  and  almost  dead  with 
their  excessive  hard  treatment,  contrived  at  last  to  make  their 
escape;  but  being  far  from  their  own  settlements,  and  not 
knowing  the  country,  were  soon  after  met  by  some  others  of 
the  tribes  or  nations  at  war  with  us,  and  brought  back.     The 

Eoor  creatures,  almost  famished  for  want  of  sustenance,  having 
ad  none  during  the  time  of  their  escape,  were  no  sooner  in 
the  power  of  the  barbarians  than  two  of  them  were  tied  to  a 
tree,  and  a  great  fire  made  round  them,  where  they  remained 
till  they  were  terribly  scorched  and  burnt ;  when  one  of  the 
villains  with  his  scalping-knife  ripped  open  their  bellies,  took 
out  their  entrails,  and  burned  them  before  their  eyes,  whilst 
the  others  were  cutting,  piercing,  and  tearing  the  flesh  from 
their  breasts,  hands,  arms,  and  legs,  with  red-hot  irons,  till 
4  they  were  dead.  The  third  unhappy  victim  was  reserved  a 
few  hours  longer,  to  be,  if  possible,  sacrificed  in  a  more  cruel 
manner:  his  arms  were  tied  close  to  his  body,  and  a  hole 
being  dug  deep  enough  for  him  to  stand  upright,  he  was  put 
into  it,  and  earth  rammed  and  beat  in  all  round  his  body  up 
to  his  neck,  so  that  his  head  only  appeared  above  ground ; 
they  then  scalped  him,  and  there  let  him  remain  for  three  or 
four  hours  in  the  greatest  agonies ;  after  which  they  made  a 
small  fire  near  his  head,  causing  him  to  suffer  the  most  excru- 
ciating torments ;  whilst  the  poor  creature  could  only  cry  for 
mercy  by  killing  him  immediately,  for  his  brains  were  boiling 
in  his  head.  Inexorable  to  all  he  said,  they  continued  the  fire 
till  his  eyes  gushed  out  of  their  sockets.  Such  agonizing  tor- 
ments did  this  unhappy  creature  suffer  for  near  two  he 


lours 


>     t 


CAPTIVITY  OF   PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


m 


before  he  was  quite  dead.  They  then  cut  off  hit  head,  and 
buried  it  with  the  other  bodies;  my  task  being  to  dig  the 
graves ;  which,  feeble  and  terrified  as  I  was,  the  dread  of  suf« 
lering  the  same  fate  enabled  me  to  do. 

A  great  snow  now  falling,  the  barbarians  were  fearful  lest 
the  white  people  should,  by  their  fracks,  Cnd  out  their  skulk- 
ing retreats,  which  obliged  them  to  make  the  best  of  their  way 
to  their  winter-quarters,  about  two  hundred  miles  farther  from 
any  plantations  or  inhabitants.  After  a  long  and  painful  jour- 
ney, being  almost  starved,  I  arrived  with  this  infernal  crew  at 
Alamingo.  There  I  found  a  number  of  wigwams  full  of  their 
women  and  children.  Dancing,  singing,  and  shouting  were 
their  general  amusements.  And  in  all  their  festivals  and 
dances  they  relate  what  successes  they  have  had,  and  what 
damages  they  have  sustained  in  their  expeditions ;  in  which  I 
now  unhappily  became  a  part  of  their  theme.  The  severity 
of  the  cold  increasing,  they  stripped  me  of  my  clothes  for  their 
own  use,  and  gave  me  such  as  they  usually  wore  themselves, 
being  a  piece  of  blankct,^  and  a  pair  of  moccasons,  or  shoes, 
with  a  yard  of  coarse  cloth,  to  put  round  me  instead  of 
breeches. 

At  Alamingo  I  remained  near  two  months,  till  the  snow  was 
off  the  ground.  Whntevfir  thought"  I  might  have  of  making 
my  escape,  to  carry  them  into  execution  was  impracticable, 
being  so  far  from  any  plantations  or  white  people,  and  the 
severe  weather  rendering  my  limbs  in  a  manner  quite  stiff  and 
motionless  ;  however,  I  contrived  to  defend  myself  against  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather  as  well  as  I  could,  by  making  m3r- 
self  a  little  wigwam  with  the  bark  of  the  trees,  covering  it 
with  earth,  which  made  it  resemble  a  cave ;  and,  to  prevent 
the  ill  effects  of  the  cold,  I  kept  a  good  fire  always  near  the 
door.  My  liberty  of  going  about  was,  indeed,  more  than  I 
could  have  expected,  but  they  well  knew  the  impracticability 
of  my  escaping  from  them.  Seeing  me  outwardly  easy  and 
submissive,  they  would  sometimes  give  me  a  little  meat,  but 
my  chief  food  was  Indian  corn.  At  length  the  time  came 
when  they  were  preparing  themselves  for  another  expedition 
against  the  planters  and  white  people  ;  but  before  they  set  out, 
they  were  joined  by  many  other  Indians. 

As  soon  as  the  snow  was  quite  gone,  they  set  forth  on  their 
journey  towards  the  back  parts  of  the  province  of  Pennsyl- 
vania ;  all  leaving  their  wives  and  children  behind  in  their 
wigwams.  They  were  now  a  formidable  body,  amounting  to 
near  one  hundred  and  fifty.  My  business  was  to  carry  what 
they  thought  proper  to  load  me  with,  but  they  never  intrusted' 
me  with  a  gun.     We  marched  on  several  days  without  any^ 


i 


h 


• 


r- 


* 


IM 


CAPTIVITY  OF  PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


thing  particular  occurrincf,  almost  famiuhed  for  want  of  proyis< 
ions ;  for  my  part,  I  had  nothing  but  a  few  stalks  of  Indian 
corn,  which  I  was  glad  to  eat  dry  ;  nor  did  the  Indians  them- 
selves fare  much  better,  for  as  we  drew  near  the  plantations 
they  were  afraid  to  kill  any  game,  lest  the  noise  of  their  guns 
should  alarm  the  inhabitants. 

When  we  again  arrived  at  the  Blue  hills,  about  thirty  miles 
from  the  Irish  settlements  before  mentioned,  we  encamped  for 
three  days,  though  God  knows  we  had  neither  tents  nor  any 
thing  else  to  defend  us  from  the  inclemency  of  the  air,  having 
nothing  to  lie  on  by  night  but  the  grass ;  their  usual  method 
of  lodging,  pitching,  or  encamping,  by  night,  being  in  parcels  of 
ten  or  twelve  men  to  a  fire,  where  they  lie  upon  the  grass  or 
brush  wrapped  up  in  a  blanket,  with  their  feet  to  the  fire. 

During  our  stay  here,  a  sort  of  council  of  war  was  held, 
when  it  was  agreed  to  divide  themselves  into  companies  of 
about  twenty  men  each ;  after  which  every  captain  marched 
with  his  party  where  he  thought  proper.  I  still  belonged  to 
my  old  masters,  but  was  left  behind  on  the  mountains  with  ten 
Indians,  to  stay  till  the  rest  should  return ;  not  thinking  it 
proper  to  carry  me  nearer  to  Gonogocheague,  or  the  other 
plantations. 

Here  I  began  to  meditate  an  escape,  and  though  I  knew  the 
country  round  extremely  well,  yet  1  was  very  cautious  of  giv- 
ing the  least  suspicion  of  any  such  intention.  However,  the 
third  day  after  the  grand  body  left,  my  companions  thought 
proper  to  traverse  the  mountains  in  search  of  game  for  their 
subsistence,  leaving  me  bound  in  such  a  manner  that  I  could 
not  escape.  At  night,  when  they  returned,  having  unbound  me, 
we  ail  sai  down  together  to  supper  on  what  they  had  killed, 
and  soon  after  (being  greatly  fatigued  with  their  day's  excursion) 
they  composed  themselves  to  rest,  as  usual.  I  now  tried  vari- 
ous ways  to  try  whether  it  was  a  scheme  to  prove  my  intentions 
or  not ;  but  afier  making  a  noise  and  walking  about,  sometimes 
touching  them  with  my  feet,  I  found  there  was  no  fallacy. 
Then  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  get  one  of  their  guns,  and,  if 
discovered,  to  die  in  my  defence,  rather  than  be  taken.  For 
that  purpose  I  made  various  efforts  to  get  one  from  under  their 
heads,  (where  they  always  secured  them,)  but  in  vain.  Disap- 
pointed in  this,  I  began  to  despair  of  carrying  my  design  into 
execution  ;  yet,  after  a  little  recollection,  and  trusting  myself 
to  the  divine  protection,  I  set  forwards,  naked  and  defenceless 
as  I  was.  Such  was  my  terror,  however,  that  in  going  from 
them  I  halted,  and  paused  every  four  or  five  yards,  looking 
fearfully  towards  the  spot  where  1  had  left  them,  lest  they 
should  av.'&ke  and  miss  me ;  but  when  I  was  two  hundred 


"V--- 


'^' 


CAFTIVITY   OF  PETER   WILLIAMSON. 


Iffff 


yards  from  them,  I  mended  my  pace,  and  made  as  much  haste 
as  I  possibly  could  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains;  when,  on  a 
sudden,  I  was  struck  with  the  greatest  terror  at  hearing  the 
wood  cry,  as  it  is  called,  which  the  savages  I  had  left  were 
makinc^  upon  missing  their  charge.  The  more  my  terror  in- 
creased the  faster  I  pushed  on,  and,  scarce  knowing  where  I 
trod,  drov€  through  the  woods  with  the  utmost  precipitation, 
sometimes  falling  and  bruising  myself,  cutting  my  feet  and  legs 
against  the  stones  in  a  miserable  manner.  But  faint  and 
maimed  as  I  was,  I  continued  my  flight  till  dayb-eak,  when, 
without  having  any  thing  to  sustain  nature  but  a  little  corn 
left,  I  crept  into  a  hollow  tree,  w^  ere  I  lay  very  snug,  and 
returned  my  prayers  and  thanks  to  the  divine  Bemg  that  had 
thus  far  favored  my  escape.  But  my  reposn  was  in  a  few 
hours  destroyed  at  hearing  the  voicef  of  the  "avages  near  the 
place  where  I  was  hid,  threatening  and  talking  J  ^w  they 
would  use  me  if  they  got  me  again.  However,  T^y  at  last 
left  the  spot  where  I  heard  them,  and  I  remained  in  my  aparS 
ment  all  that  day  without  further  molestatic  .. 

At  night  I  ventured  forwards  again,  frght^ned;  thinking 
each  twig  that  touched  me  a  savage.  The  third  day  I  con- 
cealed myself  in  like  manner  as  before,  and  at  night  travelled, 
keeping  off  the  main  road  as  much  as  possible,  which  length- 
ened my  journey  many  miles.  But  how  shall  I  describe  the 
terror  I  felt  on  the  fourth  night,  when,  by  t'le  rustling  I  made 
among  the  leaves,  a  party  of  Indians,  that  lay  round  a  small 
fire,  which  I  did  not  perceive,  started  from  the  ground,  and, 
seizing  their  arms,  ran  from  the  fire  amongst  the  woods. 
Whether  to  move  forward  or  rest  where  I  was,  I  knew  not, 
when,  to  my  great  surprise  and  joy,  I  was  relieved  by  a  parcel 
of  swine  that  made  towards  the  nlfce  wherel  guessed  the  sav- 
ages to  be  ;  who,  on  seeing  thi  rr,,  imagined  they  had  caused 
the  alarm,  very  merrily  returned  to  the  fire,  and  lay  again 
down  to  sleep.  Bruised,  crippled,  and  terrified  as  I  was,  I  pur- 
sued my  journey  till  break  of  day,  when,  thinking  myself  safe, 
I  lay  down  under  a  grea!  log,  and  slept  till  about  noon.  Be- 
fore evening  I  reached  the  summit  of  a  great  hill,  and  looking 
out  if  I  could  spy  any  habitations  of  white  people,  to  my  inex- 
pressible joy  I  saw  some,  which  I  guessed  to  be  about  ten 
miles'  distance. 

In  the  morning  I  continued  my  journey  towards  the  nearest 
cleared  lands  I  had  seen  the  day  before,  and,  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  arrived  at  the  house  of  John  Bell,  an  old  ac- 
quaintance, where  knocking  at  the  door,  his  wife,  who  opened 
it,  seeing  me  in  such  a  frightful  condition,  flew  from  me, 
screaming,  into  the  house.     This  alarmed  the  whole  family, 


"M 


i,i 


p- 


I 


■l  I 


f 

Ml 


^ 


"^% 

^.v; 


m 


MRS.  JEMIMA   HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


who  immediately  fled  to  their  arms,  and  I  was  soon  accosted 
by  the  master  with  his  gun  in  his  hand.  But  on  making  my- 
self known,  (for  he  before  took  me  to  be  an  Indian,)  he  imme- 
diately  caressed  me,  as  did  all  his  family,  with  extraordi« 
nary  friendship,  the  report  of  my  being  murdered  by  the 
savages  having  reached  them  some  months  before.  For 
two  days  and  nights  they  very  affectionately  supplied  me 
with  all  necessaries,  and  carefully  attended  me  till  my  spirits 
and  limbs  were  pretty  well  recovered,  and  I  thought  myself 
able  to  ride,  when  I  borrowed  of  these  good  people  (whose 
kindness  merits  my  most  grateful  returns)  a  horse  and  some 
clothes,  and  set  forward  for  my  father-in-law's  house  in  Ches- 
ter county,  about  one  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  thence, 
where  I  arrived  on  the  4th  of  January,  1755,  (but  scarce  one 
of  the  family  could  credit  their  eyes,  believing,  with  the  peo- 
ple I  had  lately  left,  that  I  had  fallen  a  prey  to  the  Indians,) 
where  I  was  received  and  embraced  by  the  whole  family  with 

freat  affection.  Upon  inquiring  for  my  dear  wife,  I  found  she 
ud  been  dead  two  months !  This  fatal  news  greatly  lessened 
the  joy  I  otherwise  should  have  felt  at  my  deliverance  from 
tl^e  dreadful  state  and  company  I  had  been  in. 


A  PARTICULAR  ACCOUNT   OF   THE   CAPTIVITY 

AND  REDEMPTION  OP  MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE,  WHO  WAS 
TAKEN  PRISONER  BY  THE  INDIANS  AT  HINSDALE,  NEW 
HAMPSHIRE,  ON  THE  TWENTY  SEVENTH  OF  JULY,  1765, 
AS  COMMUNICATED  TO  DR.  BELKNAP  BY  THE  REV.  BUN- 
KER GAY. 

As  Messrs.  Caleb  Howe,  Hilkiah  Grout,  and  Benjamin 
Gaffield,  who  had  been  hoeing  corn  in  the  meadow,  west  of 
the  river,  were  returning  home,  a  little  before  sunset,  to  a 
place  called  Bridgman's  fort,  they  were  fired  upon  by  twelve 
Indians,  who  had  ambushed  their  path.  Howe  was  on  horse- 
back, with  two  young  lads,  his  children,  behind  him.  A  ball, 
which  broke  his  thigh,  brought  him  to  the  ground.  His  horse 
ran  a  few  rods  and  fell  likewise,  and  both  the  lads  were  taken. 
The  Indians,  in  their  savage  manner  coming  up  to  Howe, 
pierced  his  body  with  a  spear,  tore  off  his  scalp,  stuck  a  hatchet 
m  his  head,  and  left  him  in  this  forlorn  condition.  He  was 
found  alive  the  morning  after,  .Jby  a  party  of  men  from  fort 
Hindsdale ;  and  being  asked  by  one  of  the  party  whether  he 
knew  him,  he  answered,  "  Yes,  I  know  you  all."  These  were 
his  last  words,  though  he  did  not  expire  until  after  his  friends 


H  •.■i^r"'"''.'"-«^ra"- 


'» 


MRS.   JEMIMA   HOWE'S   CAPTIVITY. 


157 


had  arrived  with  him  at  fort  Hindsdale.     Grout  was  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  escape  unhurt.     But  Gaffield,  in  attempting  to  wade 
through  the  river,  at  a  certain  place  which  was  mdeed  forda- 
ble  at  that  time,  was  unfortunately  drowned.     Flushed  with 
the  success  they  had  met  with  here,  the  savages  went  directly 
to  Bridgman's  fort.     There  was  no  man  in  it,  and  only  three 
women  and  some  children,  viz.  Mrs.  Jemima  Howe,  Mrs. 
Submit  Grout,  and  Mrs.  Eunice  Gaffield.     Their  husbands  I 
need  not  mention  again,  and  their  feelings  at  this  juncture 
I  will  not  attempt  to  describe.     They  had  heard  the  enemy's 
guns,  but  knew  not  what  had  happened  to  their  friends.     Ex- 
tremely anxious  for  their  safety,  they  stood  longing  to  embrace 
them,  until  at  length,  concluding  from  the  noise  they  heard 
without  that  some  of  them  were  come,  they  unbarred  the  gate 
in  a  hurrj  to  receive  them ;  when,  lo !  to  their  inexpressible 
disappointment  and  surprise,  instead  of  their  husbands,  in 
rushed  a  number  of  hideous  Indians,  to  whom  they  and  their 
tender  offspring  became  an  easy  prey,  and  from  whom  they 
had  nothing  to  expect  but  either  an  immediate  death  or  a  long 
and  doleful  captivity.     The  latter  of  these,  by  the  favor  of 
Providence,  turned  out  to  be  the  lot  of  these  unhappy  women 
and  their  still  more  unhappy,  because  more  helpless,  children. 
Mrs.  Gaffield  had  but  one,  Mrs.  Grout  had  three,  and  Mrs. 
Howe  leven.     The  eldest  of  Mrs.  Howe's  was  eleven  years 
old,  and  the  youngest  but  six  months.     The  two  eldest  were 
daughters,  which  she  had  by  her  first  husband,  Mr.  William 
Phipps,  who  was  also  slain  by  the  Indians,  of  which  I  doubt 
not  but  you  have  seen  an  account  in  Mr.  Doolittle's  history. 
It  was  from  the  mouth  of  this  woman  that  I  lately  received  the 
foregoing  account.     She  also  gave  me,  I  doubt  not,  a  true, 
though,  to  be  sure,  a  very  brief  and  imperfect  history  of  her 
captivity,  which  I  here  insert  for  your  perusal.     It  may  per- 
haps afford  you  some  amusement,  and  can  do  no  harm,  if, 
after  it  has  undergone  your  critical  inspection,  you  should  not 
think  it  (or  an  abbreviation  of  it)  worthy  to  be  preserved  among 
the  records  you  are  about  to  publish. 

The  Indians  (she  says)  having  plundered  arid  put  fire  to 
the  fort,  we  marched,  as  near  as  I  could  judge,  a  mile  and  a 
half  into  the  woods,  where  we  encamped  that  night.  When 
the  morning  came,  and  we  had  advanced  as  much  farther,  six 
Indians  were  sent  back  to  the  place  of  our  late  abode,  who  col- 
lected a  little  more  plunder,  and  destroyed  some  other  effects 
thnt  had  been  left  behind ;  but  they  did  not  return  until  the 
day  was  so  far  spent,  that  it  was  judged  best  to  continue  where 
we  were  through  the  night.  Early  the  next  morning  we  sett 
off  for  Canada,  and  continued  our  march  eight  days  succeEl- 
14 


^T^ 


.>1» 


.rll 


.# 


-^■' 


p*. 


158 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


sively,  until  we  had  reached  the  place  where  the  Indians  had 
left  their  canoes,  about  fifteen  miles  from  Crown  Point.  This 
was  a  long  and  tedious  march;  but  the  captives,  by  divine 
assistance,  were  enabled  to  endure  it  with  less  trouble  and 
difficulty  than  they  had  reason  to  expect.  From  such  savage 
masters,  in  such  mdigent  circumstances,  we  could  not  ration- 
ally hope  for  kinder  treatment  than  we  received.  Some  of  us, 
it  is  true,  had  a  harder  lot  than  others ;  and,  among  the  chil- 
dren, I  thought  my  son  Squire  had  the  hardest  of  any.  He 
was  then  only  four  years  old,  and  when  we  stopped  to  rest  our 
weary  limbs,  and  he  sat  down  on  his  master's  pack,  the  savage 
monster  would  often  knock  him  off;  and  sometimes,  too,  with 
the  handle  of  his  hatchet.  Several  ugly  marks,  indented  in 
his  head  by  the  cruel  Indians,  at  that  tender  age,  are  still 
plainly  to  be  seen. 

At  length  we  arrived  at  Crown  Point,  and  took  up  our 
quarters  there  for  the  space  of  near  a  week.  In  the  mean 
time  some  of  the  Indians  went  to  Montreal,  and  took  several 
of  the  weary  captives  along  with  them,  with  a  view  of  selling 
them  to  the  French.  They  did  not  succeed,  however,  in  find- 
ing a  market  for  any  of  them.  They  gave  •  my  youngest 
daughter,  Submit  Fhipps,  to  the  governor,  de  Vaudreuil,  had 
a  drunken  frolic,  and  returned  again  to  Cro^'ni  Point  with 
the  rest  of  their  prisoners.  From  hence  we  set  off  for  St. 
Johns,  in  four  or  five  canoes,  just  as  night  was  coming  on, 
and  were  soon  surrounded  with  darkness.  A  heavy  storm 
hung  over  us.  The  sound  of  the  rolling  thunder  was  very 
terrible  upon  the  waters,  which,  at  every  flash  of  expansive 
lightning,  seemed  to  be  all  in  a  blaze.  Yet  to  this  we  were 
indebted  for  all  the  light  we  enjoyed.  No  object  could  we 
discern  any  longer  than  the  flashes  lasted.  In  this  posture 
we  sailed  in  our  open,  tottering  canoes  almost  the  whole  of 
that  dreary  night.  The  morning,  indeed,  had  not  yet  begun 
to  dawn,  when  we  all  went  ashore ;  and  having  collected  a 
heap  of  sand  and  gravel  for  a  pillow,  I  laid  myself  down,  with 
my  tender  infant  by  my  side,  not  knowing  where  any  of  my 
other  children  were,  or  what  a  miserable  condition  they  might 
be  in.  The  next  day,  however,  under  the  wing  of  that  ever- 
presvint  and  all-powerful  Providence,  which  had  preserved  db 
through  the  darkness  and  imminent  dangers  of  the  preceding 
night,  we  all  arrived  in  safety  at  St.  Johns. 

Our  next  movement  was  to  St.  Francois,  the  metropolis,  if 
I  may  so  call  it,  to  which  the  Indians,  who  led  us  captive, 
belonged.  Soon  after  our  arrival  at  their  wretched  capital,  a 
council,  consisting  of  the  chief  sachem  and  some  principal 
warriors  of  the  St.  Francois  tribe,  was  convened;  and  after 


f 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


159 


had 
rhis 
ivine 
and. 
ivage 
ition- 
of  us, 
I  chil- 
,    He 
ist  our 
savage 
»,  with 
lied  in 
ce  still 

up  our 

3  mean 

several 
selling 

in  find- 

roungest 

juil,  had 

int  with 

•  for  St. 

ning  on, 

ry  storm 

was  very 

;xpansive 
we  were 
;ould  we 
s  posture 
whole  of 
et  begun 
jllected  a 
)wn,  with 
ny  of  my 
ley  might 
that  eyer- 
iserved  iib 
preceding 

tropolis,  if 

IS  captive, 

capital,  a 

principal 

and  after 


the  ceremonies  usual  on  such  occasions  were  over,  I  was  con- 
ducted and  delivered  to  an  old  squaw,  whom  the  Indians  told 
me  I  must  call  my  mother ;  my  infant  still  continuing  to  be 
the  property  of  its  original  Indian  owners.     I  was  neverthe- 
less permitted  to  keep  it  with  me  a  while  longer,  for  the  sake 
of  saving  them  the  trouble  of  looking  after  it,  and  of  main- 
taining it  with  my  milk.     When  the  weather  began  to  grow 
cold,  shuddering  at  the   prospect   of  approaching  winter,  I 
acquainted  my  new  mother  that  I  did  not  think  it  would  be 
possiUle  for  me  to  endure  it,  if  I  must  spend  it  with  her,  and 
fare  as  the  Indians  did.     Listening  to  my  repeated  and  earnest 
solicitations,  that  I  might  be  disposed  of  among  some  of  the 
French  inhabitants  of  Canada,  she,  at  length,  set  off  with  me 
and  my  infant,  attended  by  some  male  Indians,  upon  a  journey 
to  Montreal,  in  hopes  of  finding  a  market  for  me  there.     But 
the   attempt  proved  unsuccessful,   and  the  journey  tedious 
indeed.     Our  provisions  were  so  scanty,  as  well  as  insipid  and 
unsavrry,  the  weather  was  so  cold,  and  the  travelling  so  very 
bad,  that  it  often  seemed  as  if  I  must  have  perished  on  the 
way.    The  lips  of  my  poor  child  were  sometimes  so  benumbed, 
that  when  I  put  it  to  my  breast  it  could  not,  till  it  grew  warm, 
imbibe  the   nourishment   requisite   for   its   support.      While 
we  were  at  Montreal,  we  went  into  the  house  of  a  certain 
French  gentleman,  whose  lady,  being  sent  for,  and  coming 
into  the  room  where  I  was,  to  examine  me,  seeing  I  had  an 
infant,  exclaimed  suddenly  in  this  manner,  "  Damn  it,  I  will 
not  buy  a  woman  that  has  a  child  to  look  after."     There  was 
a  swill-pail  standing  near  me,  in  which  I  observed  some  crusts 
and  crumbs  of  bread  swimming  on  the  surface  of  the  greasy 
liquor  it  contained ;  sorely  pinched  with  hunger,  I  skimmed 
them  off  with  my  hands  and  eat  them ;  and  this  was  all  the 
refreshment  which  the  house  afforded  me.     Somewhere,  in 
the  course  of  this  visit  to  Montreal,  my  Indian  mother  was  so 
unfortunate  as  to  catch  the  small-pox,  of  which  distemper  she 
died,  soon  after  our  return,  which  was  by  water,  to  St.  Francois. 
And  now  came  on  the  season  when  the  Indians  began  to 
prepare  for  a  winter's  hunt.     I  was  ordered  to  return  my  poor 
child  to  those  of  them  who  still  claimed  it  as  their  property. 
This  was  a  severe  trial.     The  babe  clung  to  my  bosom  with 
all  its  might ;  but  I  was  obliged  to  pluck  it  thence,  and  deliver 
it,  shrieking  and   screaming,  enough  to  penetrate  a  heart  of 
stone,  into  the  hands  of  those  unfeeling  wretches,  whose  tender 
mercies  may  be  termed  cruel.     It  was  soon  carried  off  by  a 
hunting  party  of  those  Indians  to  a  place  called  Messiskow,  at 
the  lower  end  of  lake  Champlain,  whither,  in  about  a  month 
after,  it  was  my  fortune  to  follow  them.     I  had  preserved  my 


*- 


mr 


i     ' 

t 


1 


160 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


milk  in  hopes  of  seeing  my  beloved  child  again.  And  here  I 
found  it,  it  is  true,  but  in  a  condition  that  afforded  me  no  greftt 
satisfaction,  it  being  greatly  emaciated,  and  almost  starved.  I 
took  it  in  my  arms,  put  its  face  to  mine,  and  it  instantly  bit  me 
with  such  violence  that  it  seemed  as  if  I  must  ha\e  parted  with 
a  piece  vi  my  cheek.  I  was  permitted  to  lodge  with  it  that 
and  thi  Iw  o  following  nights ;  but  every  morning  that  inter- 
vener*,  tht  Indians,  I  suppose  on  purpose  to  torment  me,  sent 
me  away  to  another  wigwam  which  stood  at  a  little  distance, 
though  not  so  far  from  the  one  in  which  my  distressed  infant 
was  confined  but  that  I  could  plainly  hear  its  incessant  cries 
and  heart-rending  lamentations.  In  this  deplorable  condition 
I  was  obliged  to  take  my  leave  of  it,  on  the  morning  of  the 
third  day  after  my  arrival  at  the  place.  We  moved  down  the 
lake  several  miles  the  same  day ;  and  the  night  following  was 
jg  remarkable  on  account  of  the  great  earthquake*  which  terri- 

bly shook  that  howling  wilderness.  Among  the  islands  here- 
abouts we  spent  the  winter  season,  often  shifting  our  quarters, 
and  roving  about  from  one  place  to  another ;  our  family  con- 
sisting of  three  persons  only,  besides  myself,  viz.  my  late 
mother's  daughter,  whom  therefore  I  called  my  sister,  her 
sanhop,  and  a  pappoose.  They  once  left  me  alone  two  dismal 
nights ;  and  when  they  returned  to  me  again,  perceiving  them 
smile  at  each  other,  I  asked.  What  is  the  matter  ?  They  re- 
plied that  two  of  my  children  were  no  more ;  one  of  which, 
they  said,  died  a  natural  death,  and  the  other  was  knocked  on 
the  head.  I  did  not  utter  many  words,  but  my  heart  was 
sorely  pained  within  me,  and  my  mind  exceedingly  troubled 
with  strange  and  awful  ideas.  I  often  imagined,  for  instance, 
that  I  plainly  saw  the  naked  carcasses  of  my  deceased  children 
hanging  upon  the  limbs  of  the  trees,  as  the  Indians  are  wont  to 
hang  the  raw  hides  of  those  beasts  which  they  take  in  hunting. 
It  was  not  long,  however,  before  it  was  so  ordered  by  kind 
Providence,  that  I  should  be  relieved  in  a  good  measure  from 
those  horrid  imaginations  ;  for  as  I  was  walking  one  day  upon 
the  ice,  observing  a  smoke  at  some  distance  upon  the  land,  it 
must  proceed,  thought  I,  from  the  fire  of  some  Indian  hut,  and 
who  knows  but  some  one  of  my  poor  children  may  be  there? 
My  curiosity,  thus  excited,  led  me  to  the  place,  and  there  I 
found  my  son  Caleb,  a  little  boy  between  two  and  three  years 
old,  whom  I  had  lately  buried,  in  sentiment  at  least,  or  rather 
imagined  to  have  been  deprived  of  life,  and  perhaps  also  denied 
a  decent  grave.  I  found  him  likewise  in  tolerable  health 
and  circumstances,  under  the  protection  of  a  fond  Indian 
mother ;  and  moreover  had  the  happiness  of  lodging  with  him 

♦November  18, 1755. 


ik-¥- 


M>'- 


f  ■ 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S   CAPTIVITY. 


161 


•el 

reat 
I 
me 
with 
that 
[iter- 
sent 
ince, 
nfant 
cries 
lition 
if  the 
n  the 
g  was 
terri- 
i  here- 
arters, 
y  con- 
ly  late 
er,  her 
dismal 
g  them 
hey  re- 
which, 
ked  on 
irt  was 
rouhled 
istance, 
hildren 
wont  to 
anting, 
by  kind 
re  from 
f  upon 
land,  it 
lut,  and 
there? 
there  1 
se  years 
|r  rather 
denied 
health 
Indian 
rith  him 


in  my  arms  one  joyful  night.  Again  we  shifted  our  quarters, 
and  when  we  had  travelled  eight  or  ten  miles  upon  the  snow 
and  ice,  came  to  a  place  where  the  Indians  manufactured  sugar, 
which  they  extracted  from  the  maple  trees.  .  Here  an  Indian 
came  to  visit  us,  whom  I  knew,  and  could  speak  English.  He 
asked  me  why  I  did  not  go  to  see  my  son  Squire.  I  replied 
that  I  had  lately  been  informed  that  he  was  dead.  He  assured 
me  that  he  was  yet  alive,  and  but  two  or  three  miles  off,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  lake.  At  my  request  he  gave  me 
the  best  directions  he  could  to  the  place  of  his  s^^ode.  I 
resolved  to  embrace  the  first  opportunity  that  offered  ^,«ndea* 
voring  to  search  it  out.  While  I  was  busy  in  contemplating 
this  affair,  the  Indians  obtained  a  little  broad,  of  which  they 
gave  me  a  small  share.  I  did  not  taste  a  morsel  of  it  myself, 
but  saved  it  all  for  my  poor  child,  if  I  should  be  so  lucky  as  to 
find  him.  At  length,  having  obtained  of  my  keepers  leave  to 
be  absent  for  one  day,  I  set  off  early  in  the  morning,  and  steer- 
ing, as  well  as  I  could,  according  to  the  directions  which  the 
frendly  Indian  had  given  me,  I  quickly  found  the  place  which 
he  had  so  accurately  marked  out.  I  beheld,  as  I  drew  nigh, 
my  little  son  without  the  camp ;  but  he  looked,  thought  I,  like  a 
starved  and  mangy  puppy,  that  had  been  wallowing  in  the  ashes. 
I  took  him  in  my  arms,  and  he  spoke  to  me  these  words,  in 
the  Indian  tongue  :  *'  Mother,  are  you  come  ?"  I  took  him  into 
the  wigwam  with  me,  and  observing  a  number  of  Indian  chil- 
dren in  it,  I  distributed  all  the  bread  which  I  had  reserved  for 
my  own  child,  among  them  all,  otherwise  I  should  have  given 
;;'reat  offence.  My  little  boy  appeared  to  be  very  fond  of  his 
new  mother,  kept  us  near  me  as  possible  while  I  staid,  and 
when  I  told  him  I  must  go,  he  fell  as  though  he  had  been 
knocked  down  with  a  club.  But  having  recommended  him  to 
the  care  of  Him  that  made  him,  when  the  day  was  far  spent, 
and  the  time  would  permit  me  to  stay  no  longer,  I  departed, 
you  may  well  suppose  with  a  heavy  load  at  my  heart.  The 
tidings  I  had  received  of  the  death  of  my  youngest  child  had, 
a  little  before,  been  confirmed  to  me  beyond  a  doubt,  but  J 
could  not  mourn  so  heartily  for  the  deceased  as  for  the  living 
child.  « 

When  the  winter  broke  up,  we  removed  to  St.  Johns ;  and 
through  the  ensuing  summer,  our  principal  residence  was  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  fort  at  that  place.  In  the  mean 
time,  however,  my  sister's  husband,  having  been  out  with  a 
scouting  party  to  some  of  the  English  settlements,  had  .3 
drunken  frolic  at  the  fort,  when  he  returned.  His  wife,  wiio 
never  got  drunk,  but  had  often  experienced  the  ill  effects  of  her 
husband's  intemperance,  fearing  what  the  consequence  might 

urn 


n> 


V'l 


.*  1 


162 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


■■ii'- 


prove  if  he  should  come  home  in  a  morose  and  turbulent  hu- 
mor, to  avoid  his  insolence,  proposed  that  we  should  both  retire, 
and  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  it  until  the  stcnii  abated.  We  ab- 
sconded accordingly,  but  so  it  happened  that !  returnej?  nnd  ven- 
tured intf>  his  presence,  before  his  v/ife  hsd  presumed  to  come 
nigh  him,  I  found  him  in  his  wigv  am,  aud  in  a  siidy  mood ; 
and  not  being  able  to  revenge  upon  'lis  vvif?,  bccaust;  ,?/  j  was 
not  at  home,  he  laid  hold  of  me,  and  hurried  me  to  tlve  fort, 
and,  for  a  trifling  consideration,  sold  i.v3  to  a  French  gf?ntleman 
whose  namt'  was  Sa^'  apee.  Tis  an  ill  wind  certainly  that 
blows  nobody  ;iny  good.  I  had  been  with  the  Indians  a  year 
lacking  fourteen  days;  and,  if  not  for  my  !>if,ter  yet  :or  me, 
'twa?  a  lucky  <  ircumstuAce  indeijd,  vrhich  thus  nt  last,  in  an 
unexpected  moment,  snatched  my.  out  of  ihei~  •  ruel  hands,  and 
placed  me  bejond  the  reach  of  their  insolent  power. 

After  my  Indian  master  had  disposed  of  me  in  the  manner 
related  abo.e,  and  the  moment  of  sober  reflection  had  arrived, 
p  irceiving  that  the  man  who  bought  me  had  taken  the  advantage 
cf  him  hi  an  unguarded  hour,  hi?  resentments  began  to  kindle, 
and  his  indignation  rose  so  high,  that  he  threatened  to  kill  me 
if  he  should  meet  me  alone,  or  if  he  could  not  revenge  himself 
thus  that  he  would  set  fire  to  the  iort.  I  was  therefore  secreted 
in  an  upper  chamber,  and  the  fort  carefully  guarded,  until  his 
wrath  had  time  to  cool.  My  service  in  the  family  to  which  I 
was  now  advanced,  was  perfect  freedom  in  comparison  of  what 
it  had  been  among  the  barbarous  Indians.  My  new  master 
and  mistress  were  both  as  kind  and  generous  towards  me  as  I 
could  anyways  expect.  I  seldom  asked  a  favor  of  either  of 
them  but  it  was  readily  granted ;  in  consequence  of  which  I 
had  it  in  my  power,  in  many  instances,  to  administer  aid  and 
refreshment  to  the  poor  prisoners  of  my  own  nation,  who  were 
brought  into  St.  Johns  during  my  abode  in  the  family  of  the 
above-mentioned  benevolent  and  hospitable  Saccapee.  Yet 
even  in  this  family  such  trials  awaited  me  as  I  had  little  reason 
to  expect,  but  stood  in  need  of  a  large  stock  of  prudence,  to 
enable  me  to  encounter  them.  Must  I  tell  you  then,  that  even 
the  good  old  man  himself,  who  considered  me  as  his  property, 
and  likewise  a  warm  and  resolute  son  of  his,  at  that  same  time, 
and  under  the  same  roof,  became  both  excessively  fond  of  my 
company ;  so  that  between  these  two  rivals,  the  father  and  the 
son,  I  found  myself  in  a  very  critical  situation  indeed,  and  was 
greatly  embarrassed  and  perplexed,  hardly  knowing  many 
times  how  to  behave  in  such  a  manner  as  at  once  to  secure 
my  own  virtue,  and  the  good  esteem  of  the  family  in  which  I 
resided,  and  upon  which  I  was  wholly  dependent  for  ray  daily 
support.    At  length,  however,  through  the  tei^der  compassion 


MBS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITY. 


163 


of  the 
Yet 
reason 
nce,  to 
at  even 
operty, 
le  time, 

of  my 
and  the 
ind  was 
many 

secure 
which  1 

y  daily 

passion 


of  a  certain  English  gentleman,'!''  the  Governor  de  Vaudreuil 
being  made  acquainted  with  the  condition  I  had  fallen  into, 
immediately  ordered  the  young  and  amorous  Saccapee,  then 
an  officer  in  the  French  army,  from  the  field  of  Venus  to  the 
field  of  Mars,  and  at  the  same  time  also  wrote  a  letter  to  his 
father,  enjoining  it  upon  him  by  no  means  to  suffer  me  to  be 
abused,  but  to  make  ray  situation  and  service  in  his  family  as 
easy  and  delightful  as  possible.  I  was  moreover  under  un- 
speakable obligations  to  the  governor  upon  r  .lother  account. 
I  had  received  intelligence  from  my  daughter  Mary,  the  pur- 
port of  which  was,  that  there  was  a  prospect  of  her  being 
shortly  married  to  a  young  Indian  of  the  tribe  of  St.  Francois, 
with  which  tribe  she  had  continued  from  the  beginning  of  her 
captivity.  These  were  heavy  tidings,  and  added  greatly  to 
the  poignancy  of  my  other  afflictions.  However,  not  long 
after  I  had  heard  this  melancholy  news,  an  opportunity  pre- 
sented of  acquainting  that  humane  and  generous  gentleman, 
the  commander-in-chief,  and  my  illustrious  benefactor,  with 
this  affair  also,  who,  in  compassion  for  my  sufTerings,  and  to 
mitigate  my  sorrows,  issued  nis  orders  in  good  time,  and  had 
my  daughter  taken  away  from  the  Indians,  and  conveyed  to 
the  same  nunnery  where  her  sister  was  then  lodged,  with  his 
express  injunction  that  they  should  both  of  them  together  be 
well  looked  after,  and  carefully  educated,  as  his  adopted  chil- 
dren. In  this  school  of  superstition  and  bigotry  they  contin- 
ued while  the  war  in  those  days  between  France  and  Grea^ 
Britain  lasted.  At  the  conclusion  of  which  war,  the  governor 
went  home  to  France,  took  my  oldest  daughter  along  with  him, 
and  married  her  then  to  a  French  gentleman,  whose  name  is 
Cron  Lewis.  He  was  at  Boston  with  the  fleet  under  Count 
de  Estaing,  [1778]  and  one  of  his  clerks.  My  other  daugh- 
ter still  continuing  in  the  nunnery,  a  considerable  time  had 
elapsed  after  my  return  from  captivity,  when  I  made  a  journey 
to  Canada,  resolving  to  use  my  best  endeavors  not  to  return 
without  her.  I  arrived  just  in  time  to  prevent  her  being 
sent  to  France.  She  was  to  have  gone  in  the  next  vessel  that 
sailed  for  that  place.  And  I  found  it  extremely  difficult  to 
prevail  with  her  to  quit  the  nunnery  and  go  home  with  me ; 
yea,  she  absolutely  refused,  and  all  the  persuasions  and  argu- 
ments I  could  use  with  her  were  to  no  effect,  until  after  I  had 
been  to  the  governor,  and  obtained  a  letter  from  him  to  the 
superintendent  of  the  nuns,  in  whi«h  be  threatened,  if  my 
daughter  should  not  be  immediately  delivered  into  my  hands, 
or  could  not  be  prevailed  with  to  submit  to  my  paternal  author- 

*  Co)i.  Peter  Schuyler,  ti^en  a  prisoner. 


■•I 


164 


MRS.  JEMIMA  HOWE'S  CAPTIVITy. 


lifc 


Ity,  that  he  would  send  a  band  of  soldiers  to  assist  me  in 
bringing  her  away.  Upon  hearing  this  she  made  no  farther 
resistance.  But  so  extremely  bigoted  was  she  to  the  customs 
and  religion  of  the  place,  that,  after  all,  she  left  i\  with  the 
greatest  reluctance,  and  the  most  bitter  lamentations,  which 
she  continued  as  we  passed  the  streets,  and  wholly  refused  to 
be  comforted.  My  good  friend.  Major  Small,  whom  we  met 
with  on  the  way,  tried  all  he  could  to  console  her ;  and  was  so 
very  kind  and  obliging  as  to  bear  us  company,  and  carry  my 
daughter  behind  him  on  horseback. 

But  I  have  run  on  a  little  before  my  story,  for  I  have  not 
yet  informed  you  of  the  means  and  manner  of  my  own  re- 
demption, to  the  accomplishing  of  which,  the  recovery  of  my 
daughter  just  mentioned,  and  the  ransoming  of  some  of  my 
other  children,  several  gentlemen  of  note  contributed  not  a 
little  ;  to  whose  goodness  therefore  I  am  greatly  indebted,  and 
sincerely  hope  I  shall  never  be  so  ungrateful  as  to  forget.  (!)ol. 
Schuyler  in  particular  was  so  very  kind  and  generous  as  to 
advance  2700  livres  to'  procure  a  ransom  for  myself  and  three 
of  my  children.  He  accompanied  and  conaucted  us  from 
Montreal  to  Albany,  and  entertained  us  in  the  most  friendly 
and  hospitable  manner  a  considerable  time,  at  his  own  house, 
and  I  believe  entirely  at  his  own  expense. 

I  have  spun  out  the  above  narrative  to  a  much  greater  length 
than  I  at  first  intended,  and  shall  conclude  it  with  referring 
you,  for  a  more  ample  and  brilliant  account  of  the  captive 
heroine  who  is  the  subject  of  it,  to  Col.  Humphrey's  History 
of  the  Life  of  Gen.  Israel  Putnam,  together  with  some  remarks 
upon  a  few  clauses  in  it.  I  never  indeed  had  the  pleasure  of 
perusing  the  whole  of  said  history,  but  remember  to  have  seen 
some  time  ago  an  extract  from  it  in  one  of  the  Boston  news- 
papers, in  which  the  colonel  has  extolled  the  beauty  and  good 
sense,  and  rare  accomplishments  of  Mrs.  Howe,  the  person 
whom  he  endeavors  to  paint  in  the  most  lively  and  engaging 
colors,  perhaps  a  little  too  hiprhly,  and  in  a  style  that  may  ap- 
pear to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  her  to  this  day  romantic 
and  extravagant.  And  the  colonel  must  needs  have  been  mis- 
informed with  respect  to  some  particulars  that  he  has  men- 
tioned in  her  history.  Indeed,  when  I  read  the  extract  from 
his  history  to  Mrs.  Tute,  (which  name  she  has  derived  from  a 
third  husband,  whose  widow  she  now  remains,)  she  seemed  to 
be  well  pleased,  and  salA  at  first  it  was  all  true,  but  soon  after 
contradicted  the  circumstance  of  her  lover's  being  so  bereft  of 
his  senses,  when  he  saw  her  moving  oflT  in  a  boat  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  shore,  as  to  plunge  into  the  water  after  her,  in 
consequence  of  which  he  was  seen  no  more.     It  is  true,  she 


7"  ■':■'■  ^'  ■     ■'^'T' 


CAPTIVITy  OF  FRANCES  NOBLE. 


« 


166 


said,  that  as  she  was  returning  from  Montreal  to  Albany,  she 
met  with  young  Saccapee  on  the  way ;  that  she  was  in  a 
boat  with  Colonel  Schuyler ;  that  the  French  officer  came  on 
board  the  boat,  made  her  some  handsome  presents,  took  Kis 
final  leave  of  her,  and  departed,  to  outward  appearance  in  tole- 
rable good  humor. 

She  moreover  says,  that  when  she  went  to  Canada  for  her 
daughter,  she  met  with  him  again,  that  he  showed  her  a  lock 
of  her  iiair,  and  her  name  likewise,  printed  with  vermillion  on 
his  arm.  As  to  her  being  chosen  agent  to  go  to  Europe,  in 
behalf  of  the  people  of  Hinsdale,  when  Colonel  Howard  ob- 
tained from  the  government  of  New  York  a  patent  of  their 
lands  on  the  west  side  of  Connecticut  river,  it  was  never  once 
thought  of  by  Hinsdale  people  until  the  above-mentioned  ex- 
tract arrived  among  them,  in  which  the  author  has  inserted  it 
as  a  matter  of  undoubted  fact. 


NARRATIVE 


OF  THE  CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCES  NOBLE,  WHO  WAS,  AMONG 
O'T'FW.RS,  TAKEN  BY  THE  INDIANS  FROM  SWAN  ISLAND,  IN 
Wfi  rr  ,  ABOUT  THE  YEAR  1755 ;  COMPILED  BY  JOHN  KELLY, 
£.[M.  OF  CONCORD,  NEW  HAMPSHIRE,  FROM  THE  MINUTES 
AND  MEMORANDA  OF  PHINEHAS  MERRILL,  ESQ.  OF  STRAT- 
HAM,  IN  THE  SAME  STATE;  AND  BY  THE  FORMER  GEN- 
TLEMAN COMMUNICATED  FOR  PUBLICATION  TO  THE  EDI- 
TORS OF  THE  HISTORICAL  COLLECTIONS  OF  NEW  HAMP- 
SHIRE. 


fen  mis- 
men- 
kt  from 
I  from  a 
Imed  to 
\n  after 
jreft  of 
le  dis- 
I  her,  in 
le,  she 


James  Whidden,  the  maternal  grandfather  of  Mrs.  Shute, 
was  a  captain  in  the  army  at  the  taking  of  Cape  Breton  in 
1745.  He  owned  a  tract  of  la-'d  on  Swan  Island,  in  the  river 
Kennebec,  where  he  lived  with  his  family.  One  of  his  daugh- 
ters married  Lazarus  Noble,  of  Portsmouth,  who  lived  on  the 
island  with  her  father.  The  Indians  had  been  accustomed  to 
visit  Capt.  Whidden  for  the  purposes  of  trade.  There  was  a 
garrison  on  the  island  to  secure  the  inl)abitants  from  the  attacks 
of  the  enemy  in  time  of  war. 

One  morning,  a  little  after  daybreak,  two  boys  went  out  of 
the  garrison  and  left  the  gate  open.     The  Indians  were  on  the ' 
watch,  and  availing  themselves  of  the  opportunity,  about  ninety 
entered  the  garrison.    The  inhabitants  immediately  discovered 


■i 


166 


CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCES  NOBLE. 


■■^ 


(vl--»,: 


{I 
i 


that  the  enemy  was  upon  them ;  but  there  was  no  escape. 
Captain  Whidden  and  his  wife  retreated  to  the  cellar,  and  con- 
cealed themselves.  Noble  and  his  hired  man  met  the  Indians 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  fired  upon  them,  wounding  one 
of  them  in  the  arm.  The  Indians  did  not  return  the  fire,  but 
took  Noble,  his  wife,  and  seven  children,  with  Timothy  Whid- 
den and  Mary  Holmes,  prisoners.  The  hired  man  and  the 
two  boys  escaped.  The  captives  were  carried  to  the  water's 
side  and  bound ;  excepting  such  as  could  not  run  away.  The 
Indians  then  returned  to  the  garrison,  burnt  the  barn  and  plun- 
dered the  house,  cut  open  the  feather  beds,  strewed  the  feath- 
ers in  the  field,  and  carried  ofT  all  the  silver  and  gold  they 
could  find,  and  as  much  of  the  provisions  as  they  chose.  It 
was  supposed  they  omitted  to  burn  the  house  from  the  suspi- 
cion that  the  captain'  and  his  wife,  from  whom  they  had,  in 
times  of  peace,  received  many  favors,  were  concealed  in  it. 
Capt.  Whidden,  after  the  destruction  of  his  property  on  the 
island,  returned  to  Greenland,  in  this  state,  which  is  supposed 
to  have  been  his  native  place,  and  there  died. 

The  Indians  also  took  in  a  wood  on  the  island  an  old  man 
by  the  name  of  Pomeroy,  who  was  employed  in  making  shin- 

§les.  Having  collected  their  captives  and  plunder,  they  iinme- 
iately  left  the  island,  and  commenced  their  return  to  Canada  to 
dispose  of  their  prey.  Pomeroy  was  old  and  feeble,  and  unable 
to  endure  the  fatigue  of  the  march,  without  more  assistance  than 
the  savages  thought  fit  to  render  him,  and  they  killed  him  on 
the  journey.  They  were  more  attentive  to  the  children,  as  for 
them  they  undoubtedly  expected  a  higher  price  or  a  greater 
ransom.  Abigail,  one  of  the  children,  died  among  the  Indians. 
The  other  captives  arrived  safe  in  Canada,  and  were  variously 
disposed  of.  Mr.  Noble  was  sold  to  a  baker  in  Quebec,  and 
his  wife  to  a  lady  of  the  same  place  as  a  chambermaid.  They 
were  allowed  to  visit  each  other  and  to  slee^j  together.  Four 
of  the  children  were  also  sold  in  Quebec,  as  were  Timothy 
Whidden  and  Mary  Holmes.  The  captives  in  that  city  were 
exchanged  within  a  year,  and  returned  to  their  homes.  Mr. 
Whidden  and  Miss  Holmes  were  afterwards  united  in  mar- 
riage. 

Fanny  Noble,  the  principal  subject  of  this  memoir,  at  the 
time  of  her  captivity,  was  about  thirteen  months  old.  She 
was  carried  by  a  party  of  Indians  to  Montreal.  In  their  at- 
tempts to  dispose  of  her,  they  took  her  one  day  to  the  house 
of  Monsieur  Louis  St.  Auge  Charlee,  an  eminent  merchant  of 
that  place,  who  was  at  that  time  on  a  journey  to  Quebec.  His 
lady  was  called  into  the  kitchen  by  one  of  her  maids  to  see  a 


•10- 


CAl'liVITYOF  FRANCES  NOBLE. 


167 


poor  infant  crawling  on  the  tile  floor  in  dirt  and  rags,  picking 
apple  peelings  out  of  the  cracks.  She  came  in,  and  on  kindly 
noticing  the  child,  Fanny  immediately  caught  hold  of  the 
lady's  gown,  wrapped  it  over  her  head,  and  burst  into  tears. 
The  lady  could  not  easily  resist  this  appeal  to  her  compassioa. 
She  took  up  the  child,  who  clung  about  her  neck  and  repeat- 
edly embraced  her.  The  Indians  offered  to  sell  her  their  little 
captive,  but  she  declined  buying,  not  choosing  probably  in  the 
absence  of  her  husband  to  venture  on  such  a  purchase.  The 
Indians  left  the  house,  and  slept  that  night  on  the  pavements 
before  the  door.  Fanny,  who  had  again  heard  the  voice  of 
kindness,  to  which  she  had  not  been  accustomed  from  her  sav* 
age  masters,  could  not  be  quiet,  but  disturbed  the  slumbers  and 
touched  the  heart  of  the  French  lady  by  her  incessant  cries. 
This  lady  had  then  lately  lost  a  child  by  death,  and  was  per- 
haps more  quick  to  feel  for  the  suflferings  of  children,  and 
more  disposed  to  love  them,  than  she  would  otherwise  have 
been.  Early  the  next  morning  the  Indians  were  called  into 
the  house ;  Fanny  was  purchased,  put  into  a  tub  of  water,  and 
having  been  thoroughly  washed,  was  dressed  in  the  clothes  of 
the  deceased  child,  and  put  to  bed.  She  awoke  smiling,  and 
seemed  desirous  of  repaying  her  mistress'  kindness  by  her  in- 
fantile prattle  and  fond  caresses.  Fanny  could  never  learn 
for  what  price  she  was  bought  of  the  Indians,  as  her  French 
mother  declined  answering  her  questions  upon  that  subject, 
telling  her  to  be  a  good  girl,  and  be  thankful  that  she  was  not 
still  in  their  power. 

Mons.  and  Mad.  St.  Auge  took  a  lively  interest  in  their  little 
captive,  and  treated  her  with  much  tenderness  and  affection. 
She  felt  for  them  a  filial  attachment.  When  her  parents  were 
exchanged,  her  mother,  on  her  return  home,  called  upon  Fanny, 
and  took  the  child  in  her  arms,  but  no  instinct  taught  her  to 
rejoice  in  the  maternal  embrace,  and  she  fled  for  protection  to 
her  French  mamma.  Mrs.  Noble  received  many  presents 
from  the  French  lady,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  that  her 
little  daughter  was  left  in  affectionate  hands. 

Fanny  was  taught  to  call  and  consider  Mons.  and  Mad.  St. 
Auge  as  her  parents.  They  had  her  baptized  by  the  name  of 
Eleanor,  and  educated  her  in  the  Roman  Catholic  religion. 
She  learned  her  Pater  Nosters  and  Ave  Marias,  went  to  mass, 
crossed  herself  with  holy  water,  and  told  her  beads  with  great 
devotion. 

When  four  or  five  years  old,  she  was  enticed  away  from  her 
French  parents  by  Wheelwright,  who  had  been  employed  by 
the  government  of  Massachusetts  to  seek  for  captives  in  Can- 
ada.   He  carried  her  to  the  Three  Rivers,  where  he  had  sev- 


i 


^  '-:■: 


I 


^. 


1 


-Ltf^-. 


r 


r 


198 


CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCEf  V^OBTE. 


•ral  other  captives,  and  left  her,  as  he  pretended,  with  a  rela- 
tion of  her  t  rench  father's  for  a  few  days,  when  she  expected 
to  return  to  Montreal.  But  she  had  not  been  to  the  Three 
Rivers  more  than  twentv-four  hours,  when  the  old  squaw 
who  had  sold  her  to  Mad.  St.  Auge  came  along  in  a  sleigh, 
accompanied  by  a  young  sanop,  seized  upon  Fanny,  and  car- 
ried her  to  St.  Francois,  where  they  kept  her  about  a  fortnight. 
She  had  now  attained  an  age  when  sne  would  be  sensible  of 
her  misfortunes,  and  bitterly  lamented  her  separation  from  her 
French  parents.  The  Indians  endeavored  to  pacify  and  please 
her  by  drawing  on  her  coat  or  frock  the  figures  of  deers,  wolves, 
bears,  fishes,  xc, ;  and  once,  probably  to  make  her  look  as 
handsomely  as  themselves,  they  painted  her  cheeks  in  the 
Indian  fashion,  which  very  much  distressed  her,  and  the  old 
squaw  made  them  wipe  on  the  paint.  At  one  time  she  got 
away  from  the  savages,  and  sought  refuge  in  the  best-look- 
ing house  in  the  village,  which  belonged  to  a  French  priest, 
who  kissed  her,  asked  her  many  questions,  and  treated  her 
kindly,  but  gave  her  up  to  the  claim  of  her  Indian  masters. 
While  at  St.  Francois,  her  brother,  Joseph  Noble,  who  had 
not  been  sold  to  the  French,  but  still  lived  with  the  Indians, 
cune  to  see  her,  but  she  had  a  great  aversion  to  him.  He  was 
m  his  Indian  dress,  and  she  would  not  believe  him  to  be  a  rela- 
tion, of  speak  to  him  if  she  could  avoid  it.  She  was  at  last 
turned  back  by  the  Indians  to  Montreal,  and  to  her  great  satis- 
faction was  delivered  to  her  French  father,  who  rewarded  the 
Indians  for  returning  her.  It  was  doubtless  the  expectation  of 
much  reward  which  induced  the  old  squaw  to  seize  her  at  the 
Three  Rivers,  as  the  Indians  not  unfrequently  stole  back  cap- 
tives, in  order  to  extort  presents  for  their  return  from  the 
French  gentlemen  to  whom  the  same  captives  had  before  been 
sold.  Before  this  time  she  had  been  hastily  carried  from  Mont- 
real, hurried  over  mountains  and  across  waters,  and  concealed 
among  flags,  while  those  who  accompanied  her  were  evidently 
pursued,  and  in  great  apprehension  of  being  overtaken ;  but 
the  occasion  of  this  flight  or  its  incidents  she  was  too  young  to 
understand  or  distinctly  to  remember,  and  she  was  unable  after- 
wards to  satisfy  herself  whether  her  French  father  conveyed 
her  away  to  keep  her  out  of  the  reach  of  her  natural  friends, 
or  whether  she  was  taken  by  those  friends,  and  afterwards  re- 
taken as  at  the  Three  Rivers  and  returned  to  Montreal.  The 
French  pajents  cautiously  avoided  informing  her  upon  this 
subject,  or  upon  any  other  which  should  remind  her  of  her  cap- 
tivity, her  country,  her  parents  or  her  friends,  lest  she  should 
become  discontented  with  her  situation,  and  desirous  of  leav- 
ing those  who  had  adopted  her.    They  kept  her  secreted  from 


:t:«-. 


CAPTIVITY  OF  FRANCES  NOBLE. 


160 


cap- 
the 
been 
Mont- 
ealed 
ently 
but 
ing  to 
after- 
veycd 
lends, 
ds  re- 
The 
this 
T  cap- 
Ihould 
leav- 
from 


her  natural  friends,  who  were  in  search  of  her,  and  evaded 
every  question  which  might  lead  to  her  discovery.  One  day, 
when  Mons.  St.  Auge  and  most  of  his  family  were  at  masSf 
she  was  sent  with  another  captive  to  the  third  story  of  the 
house,  and  the  domestics  were  required  strictly  to  watch  thenfi 
as  it  was  known  that  some  of  her  relations  were  then  in  the 
place  endeavoring  to  find  her.  Of  this  circumstance  she  was 
Ignorant,  but  she  was  displeased  with  her  confinement,  and 
with  her  little  companion  found  means  to  escape  from  their 
room  and  went  below.  While  raising  a  cup  of  water  to  her 
mouth,  she  saw  a  man  looking  at  her  through  the  window,  and 
stretching  out  his  arm  towards  her,  at  the  same  time  speaking 
a  language  which  she  could  not  understand.  She  was  very 
much  alarmed,  threw  down  her  water,  and  ran  with  all  possi- 
ble speed  to  her  room.  Little  did  she  suppose  that  it  was  her 
own  father,  from  whom  she  was  flying  in  such  fear  and  horror. 
He  had  returned  to  Canada  to  seek  those  of  his  children  whrf* 
remained  there.  He  could  hoar  nothing  of  his  Fanny ;  but 
watching  the  house,  he  perceived  her,  as  was  just  stated,  and 
joyfully  stretching  his  arms  towards  her,  exclaimed,  *'  There 's 
my  daughter!  O!  that 's  my  daughter T'  But  she  retreated, 
and  he  could  not  gain  admittance,  for  the  house  was  guarded 
and  no  stranger  permitted  to  enter.  How  long  he  continued 
hovering  about  her  is  now  unknown,  but  he  left  Canada  with- 
out embracing  her  or  seeing  her  again. 

Her  French  parents  put  her  to  a  boarding  school  attached  to 
a  nunnery  in  Montreal,  where  she  remained  several  years,  and 
was  taught  all  branches  of  needle-work,  with  geography, 
music,  painting,  &c.  In  the  same  school  were  two  Misses 
Johnsons,  who  were  captured  at  Charlestown,  (No.  4)  in  1754, 
and  two  Misses  Phipps,  the  daughters  of  Mrs.  Howe,  who 
were  taken  at  Hinsdale  in  1755.  Fanny  was  in  school  when 
Mrs.  Howe  came  for  her  daughters,  and  long  remembered  the 
grief  and  lamentations  of  the  young  captives  when  obliged 
to  leave  their  school  and  mates  to  return  to  a  strange,  though 
their  native  country,  and  to  relatives  whom  they  had  long  for- 
gotten. 

While  at  school  at  Montreal,  her  brother  Joseph  again  vis- 
ited her.  He  still  belonged  to  the  St.  Francois  tribe  of  Indians, 
and  was  dressed  remarkably  fine,  having  forty  or  fifty  broaches 
in  his  shirt,  clasps  on  his  arm,  and  a  great  variety  oi  knots  and 
bells  about  his  clothing.  He  brought  his  little  sister  Ellen,  as 
she  was  then  called,  and  who  was  then  not  far  from  seven 
years  old,  a  young  fawn,  a  basket  of  cranberries,  and  a  lump 
of  sap  sugar.  The  little  girl  was  much  pleased  with  the  fawn, 
and  had  no  great  aversion  to  cranberries  and  sugar,  but  she- 

16 


J 


H-.«- 


V4ii 


170 


CAPTIVITY  CF  FRANCES  NOBLE. 


d: 


h 


<* 


was  much  frightened  by  the  appearance  of  Joseph,  and  would 
receive  nothing  from  his  hands  till,  at  the  suggestion  of  her 
friends,  he  had  washed  the  paint  from  his  face  and  made  some 
alterationjn  his  dress,  when  she  ventured  to  accept  his  offer- 
ij^s,  and  irhmediately  ran  from  his  presence.  The  next  day, 
Joseph  returned  with  the  Indians  to  St.  Francois,  but  some 
time  afterwards  Mons.  St.  Avige  purchased  him  of  the  sava- 
ges, an4  dressed  him  in  the  French  style ;  but  he  never  ap- 
peared so  bold  and  majestic,  so  spirited  and  vivacious,  n  when 
arrayed  in  his  Indian  habit  and  associating  with  his  Indian 
friends.  He  however  became  much  attached  to  St.  Auge,  who 
put  him  to  school ;  and  when  his  sister  parted  with  him  upon 
leaving  Canada,  he  gave  her  a  strict  charge  not  to  let  it  be 
known  where  he  was,  lest  he  tpo  should  be  obliged  to  leave 
his  friends  and  return  to  the  place  of  his  birth. 

When  between  eleven  and  twelve  years  of  age,  Fanny  was 
Sent  to  the  school  of  Ursuline  nuns  in  Quebec,  to  complete  her 
education.  Here  the  discipline  was  much  more  strict  and  sol- 
emn than  in  the  school  at  Montreal.  In  bothplaces  the  teach- 
ers were  called  half  nuns,  who,  not  being  professed,  were  allow- 
ed to  go  in  and  out  at  pleasure  ;  but  at  Quebec  the  pupils  were 
in  a  great  measure  secluded  from  the  world,  being  permitted 
to  walk  only  in  a  small  garden  by  day,  and  confined  by  bolts 
and  bars  in  their  cells  at  night.  This  restraint  was  irksome  to 
Fanny.  She  grew  discontented  ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  year 
was  permitted  to  return  to  her  French  parents  at  Montreal,  and 
again  enter  the  school  in  that  city. 

While  Fanny  was  in  the  nunnery,  being  then  in  her  four- 
teenth year,  she  was  one  day  equally  surprised  and  alarmed 
by  the  entrance  of  a  stranger,  who  demanded  her  of  the  nuns 
as  a  redeemed  captive.  Her  father  had.  employed  this  man, 
Arnold,  to  seek  out  his  daughter  and  obtain  her  from  the 
French,  who  had  hitherto  succeeded  in  detaining  her.  Arnold 
was  well  calculated  for  this  employment.  He  was  secret,  sub- 
tle, resolute  and  persevering.  He  had  been  some  time  in  tie 
city  without  exciting  a  suspicion  of  bis  business.  He  had 
ascertained  where  the  captive  was  to  be  found — he  had  pro- 
cured the  necessary  powers  to  secure  her,  and  in  his  approach 
to  the  nunnery  was  accompanied  by  a  sergeant  and  a  file  of 
men.  The  nuns  were  unwilling  to  deliver  up  their  pupil,  and 
required  to  know  by  what  right  he  demanded  her.  Arnold 
convinced  them  that  his  authority  was  derived  from  the  gov- 
ernor, and  they  durst  not  disobey.  They,  however,  prolonged 
the  time  as  much  as  possible,  and  sent  word  to  Mons.  St.  Auge, 
hoping  that  he  would  be  able  in  some  way  or  other  to  detain 
his  adopted  daughter.     Arnold  however  was  not  to  be  delayed 


satts 


■'W'' 


VM 


CAPTIVITY    OF  FRANCES   NOBLE. 


171 


in  tie 

le  had 

d  pro- 

proach 

file  of 

il,  and 

Arnold 

He  gov- 

blonged 

|.  Auge, 

detain 

lelayed 


or  trifled  with.     He  sternly  demanded  the  captive  by  tii:  ^lame 
of  Noble  in  the   governor's  name,  and  the  nuns  were  awed 
into  submission.     Fanny,  weeping  and  trembling,  was  deKv- 
ered  up  by  those  who  wept  and  trembled  too.     Sjjje  accom- 
panied Arnold  to   the  gate   of  the  nunnery,  but'  the  idea^pf 
leaving  forever  those  whom  she  loved  and  going  with  a  com- 
pany of  armed  men  she  knew  nqt  whither,  was  too^pverwhelra- 
ing,  and  she  sunk  upon  the  ground.     Her  cries  and, lamenta- 
tions drew  the  people  around  her,  and  she  exclaimed  .bitterly 
against  the  cruelty  of  forcing  her  away,  declaring  that  she  could 
not  and  would  not  go  any  further  as  a  prisoner  with  those  fright- 
ful soldiers.     At  this  time  an  English  officer  appeared  in  the 
crowd  ;  he  reasoned  with  her,  soothed  her,  and  persuaded  her 
to  walk  with  him,  assuring  her  the  guard  should  be  dismissed 
and  no  injury  befall  her.     As  they  passed  by  the  door  of 
Mons.  St.  Auge,  on  their  way  to  the  inn,  her  grief  and  excla- 
mations were  renewed,  and  it  was  Avith  great  difficulty  that 
she  could  be  persuaded  to  proceed.     But  the  guard  had  merely 
fallen  back,  and  were  too  near  to  prevent  a  rescue,  had  an  at- 
tempt been  made.    Capt.  M'Clure,  the  English  officer,  promised 
her  that  she  should  be  permitted  to  visit  her  French  parents 
the  next  day?     She  found  them  in  tears,  but  they  could  not 
detain  her.     Mons.  St.  Auge  gave  her  a  handful  of  money, 
and  embraced  her,  blessed  her,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room. 
His  lady  supplied  her  with  clothes,  and  their  parting  was  most 
affectionate  and  afTc.oting.     She  lived  to  a  considerably  ad- 
vanced age,  but  she  could  never  speak  of  this  scene  without 
visible  and  deep  emotion. 

She  was  carried  down  the  river  to  Quebec,  where  she  tar- 
ried a  few  days,  and  then  sailed  with  Captain  Wilson  for  Bos- 
ton. She  arrived  at  that  port  in  July,  one  month  before  she 
was  fourteen  years  of  age.  She  was  joyfully  received  by 
her  friends,  but  her  father  did  not  long  survive  her  return. 
After  his  death  she  resided  in  the  family  of  Capt.  Wilson,  at 
Boston,  until  she  had  acquired  the  English  language,  of  which 
before  she  was  almost  entirely  ignorant.  She  then  went  to 
Newbury,  and  lived  in  the  family  of  a  relative  of  her  father, 
where  she  found  a  home,  and  that  peace  to  which  she  had  long 
been  a  stranger.  Her  education  had  qualified  her  for  the 
instruction  of  youth,  and  she  partially  devoted  herself  to  that 
employment.  She  was  engaged  in  a  school  at  Hampton, 
where  she  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Jonathan  Tilton, 
a  gentleman  of  good  property  in  Kensington,  whom  she  mar- 
ried about  the  year  1776.  He  died  in  1798.  In  1801,  she 
married  Mr.  John  Shute,  of  Nevv-Market,  and  lived  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Newfields  in  that  town  till  her  death,  in  September, 


•«■ 


'. 


^ 


% 


fl 


m 


w 


#* 


.y 


% 


■  ^ 


172 


CAPTAIN  CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


1819.     She  was  much  respected  and  esteemed  in  life,  and  her 
death  was,  as  her  life  had  been,  that  of  a  Christian. 


% 


CAPTAIN  JONATHAN  CARVER'S 

NARRATIVE  OP  HIS  CAPTURE,  AND  SUBSEQUENT  ESCAPE 
FROM  THE  INDIANS,  AT  THE  BLOODY  MASSACRE  COMMIT- 
TED BY  THEM,  WHEN  FORT  WILLIAM  HENRY  FELL  INTO 
THE  HANDS  OF  THE  FRENCH,  UNDER  GEN.  MONTCALM,  IN 
THE  YEAR  1757.    WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF. 

Gen.  Webb,  who  commanded  the  English  army  in  North 
America,  which  was  then  encamped  at  fort  Edward,  having 
intelligence  that  the  French  troops  under  Monsieur  Montcalm 
were  making  some  movements  towards  fort  William  Henry,  he 
detached  a  corps  of  about  fifteen  hundred  men,  consisting  of 
English  and  provincials,  to  strengthen  the  garrison.  In  this 
party  I  went  as  a  volunteer  among  the  latter. 

The  apprehensions  of  the  English  general  were  not  without 
foundation ;  for  the  day  after  our  arrival  we  saw  lake  George, 
(formerly  lake  Sacrament)  to  which  it  lies  contiguous,  covered 
with  an  immv?nse  number  of  boats ;  and  in  a  few  hours  we 
found  our  lines  attacked  by  the  French  general,  who  had  just 
landed  with  eleven  thousand  regulars  and  Canadians,  and  two 
thousand  Indians.  Colonel  Monro,  a  brave  officer,  commanded 
in  the  fort,  and  had  no  more  than  two  thousand  three  hundred 
men  with  him,  our  detachment  included. 


'^i- 


Hr 


CAPTAIN  CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


173 


With  these  he  made  a  gallant  defence,  and  probably  would 
have  been  able  at  last  to  preserve  the  fort,  had  he  been  properly 
supported,  and  permitted  to  continue  his  efforts.  On  every 
summons  to  surrender  sent  by  the  French  general,  who  offered 
the  most  honorable  terms,  his  answer  repeatedly  was,  that  he 
yet  found  himself  in  a  condition  to  repel  the  most  vigorous 
attacks  his  besiegers  were  able  to  make;  and  if  he -thought  his 
present  force  insufficient,  he  could  soon  be  supplied  with  a 
greater  number  from  the  adjacent  army. 

But  the  colonel  having  acquainted  General  Webb  with  his 
situation,  and  desired  he  would  send  him  some  fresh  troops, 
the  general  dispatched  a  messenger  to  him  with  a  letter,  where- 
in he  informed  him  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  assist  him, 
and  therefore  gave  him  orders  to  surrender  up  the  fort  on  the 
best  terms  he  could  procure.  This  packet  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  French  general,  who  immediately  sent  a  flag  of  truce, 
desiring  a  conference  with  the  governor. 

They  accordingly  met,  attended  only  by  a  small  guard,  in 
the  centre  between  the  lines ;  when  Monsieur  Montcalm  told 
the  colonel,  that  he  was  come  in  person  to  demand  possession 
of  the  fort,  as  it  belonged  to  the  king  his  master.  The  colonel 
replied,  that  he  knew  not  how  that  could  be,  nor  should  he 
surrender  it  up  whilst  it  was  in  his  power  to  defend  it. 

The  French  general  rejoined  at  the  same  time  delivering 
the  packet  into  the  colonel's  hand,  "  By  this  authority  do  I 
make  the  requisition."  The  brave  governor  had  no  sooner 
read  the  contents  of  it,  and  was  convinced  that  such  were  the 
orders  of  the  commander-in-chief,  aad  not  to  be  disobeyed, 
than  he  hung  his  head  in  silence,  and  reluctantly  entered  into 
a  negotiation. 

In  consideration  of  the  gallant  defence  the  garrison  had  made, 
they  were  to  be  permitted  to  .uireh  out  with  all  the  honors  of 
war,  to  be  allowed  covered  wagons  to  transport  their  baggage 
to  fort  Edward,  and  a  guard  to  protect  them  from  the  fury  of 
the  savages. 

The  morning  after  the  capitulation  wus  signed,  as  soon  as 
day  broke,  the  whole  garrison,  now  consisting  of  about  two 
thousand  men,  besides  women  and  children,  were  drawn  up 
within  the  lines,  and  on  the  point  of  marching  off,  when  great 
numbers  of  the  Indians  gathered  about,  and  began  to  plunder. 
We  were  at  first  in  hopes  that  this  was  their  only  view,  and 
suffered  them  to  proceed  without  opposition.  Indeed  it  was 
not  in  our  power  to  make  any,  had  we  been  so  inclined ;  for 
though  we  were  permitted  to  carry  off  our  arms,  yet  we  were 
not  allowed  a  single  round  of  ammunition.  In  these  hopes 
however  we  were  disappointed ;  for  presently  some  of  them 
15=^ 


..-,* 


*i 


'  H 


174 


-^ 


CAPTAIN  CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


Y 


M. 

^ 


a 


\     \ 


began  to  attack  the  sick  and  wounded,  when  such  as  were  not 
able  to  crawl  into  the  ranksi,  notwithstanding  they  endeavored 
to  avert  the  fury  of  their  enemies  by  their  shrieks  or  groans, 
were  soon  dispatched. 

Here  we  were  fully  in  expectation  that  the  disturbance  would 
have  coQpluded  ;  and  our  little  army  began  to  move ;  but  in  a 
short  time  we  saw  the  front  division  driven  back,  and  discov- 
ered that 'we  we|re  entirely  encircled  by  the  savages.  We 
expected  every  moment  that  the  guard,  which  vhe  French,  by 
the  articles  of  capitulation,  had  agreed  to  allow  us,  would  have 
arrived,  and  put  aif  end  to  our  apprehensions ;  but  none  ap- 
peared. The  Indians  now  began  to  strip  every  one  without 
exception  of  their  arms  and  clothes,  and  those  who  made  the 
least  resistance  felt  the  weight  of  their  tomahawks. 

I  happened  to  be  in  the  rear  division,  but  it  was  not  long 
before  I  shared  the  fate  of  my  companions.  Three  or  four  of 
the  savages  laid  hold  of  me,  and  whilst  some  held  their  wea- 
pons over  my  head,  the  others  soon  disrobed  me  of  my  coat, 
waistcoat,  hat  and  buckles,  omitting  not  to  take  from  me  what 
money  I  had  in  my  pocket.  As  this  was  transacted  close  by 
the  passage  that  led  from  the  lines  on  to  the  plain,  near  which 
a  French  sentinel  was  posted,  I  rt,ii  to  him  and  claimed  his 
protection ;  but  he  only  called  me  an  English  dog,  and  thrust 
me  with  violence  back  again  into  the  midst  of  the  Indians. 

I  now  endeavored  to  join  a  body  of  our  troops  that  were 
crowded  together  at  some  distance ;  but  innumerable  were  the 
blows  that  were  made  at  me  with  different  weapons  as  I  passed 
on ;  luckily  however  the  savages  were  so  close  together  that 
they  could  not  strike  at  me  without  endangering  each  other. 
Notwithstanding  which  one  of  them  found  means  to  make  a 
thrust  at  me  with  a  spear,  which  grazed  my  side,  and  from 
another  I  received  a  wound,  with  the  same  kind  of  weapon,  in 
my  ankle.  At  length  I  gained  the  spot  where  my  countrymen 
stood,  and  forced  myself  into  the  midst  of  them.  But  before 
I  got  thus  far  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  the  collar  and 
wristbands  of  my  shirt  were  all  that  remained  of  it,  and  my 
flesh  wati  scratched  and  torn  in  many  places  by  their  savage 
gripes. 

By  this  time  the  war-whoop  was  given,  and  the  Indians 
began  to  murder  those  that  were  nearest  to  them  without  dis- 
tinction. It  is  not  in  the  power  of  words  to  give  any  tolerable 
idea  of  the  horrid  scene  that  now  ensued;  men,  women,  and 
children  were  dispatched  in  the  most  wanton  and  cruel  man- 
ner, and  immediately  scalped.  Many  of  these  savages  drank 
the  blood  of  their  victims,  as  it  flowed  warm  from  the  fatal 
wound. 


CAPTAIN  CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


176 


dians 
t  dis- 
rable 
and 
man- 
Irank 
fatal 


We  now  perceived,  though  too  late  to  avail  us,  that  we  were 
to  expect  no  relief  from  the  French  ;  and  that,  contrary  to  the 
agreement  they  had  so  lately  signed  to  allow  us  a  suiRcient 
force  to  protect  us  from  these  insults,  they  taciijy  permitted 
them ;  for  I  could  plainly  perceive  the  French  officers  walking 
about  at  some  distance,  discoursing  together  with  apparent 
unconcern.  For  the  honor  of  human  nature  I  would  hope  that 
this  flagrant  breach  of  every  sacred  law  proceeded  rather  from 
the  savage  disposition  of  the  Indians,  which  I  jicknowledge  it 
is  sometimes  almost  impossible  to  control,  and  which  might 
now  unexpectedly  have  arrived  to  a  pitch  not  easily  to  be 
restrained,  than  to  any  premeditated  design  in  the  French 
commander.  An  unprejudiced  observer  would,  however,  be 
apt  to  conclude,  that  a  body  of  ten  thousand  christian  troops, 
most  christian  troops,  had  it  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  mas- 
sacre from  becoming  so  general.  But  whatever  was  the  cause 
from  which  it  arose,  the  consequences  of  it  were  dreadful,  and 
not  to  be  paralleled  in  modern  history. 

As  the  circle  in  which  I  stood  inclosed  by  this  time  was  much 
thinned,  and  death  seemed  to  be  approaching  with  hasty  strides, 
it  was  proposed  by  some  of  the  most  resolute  to  make  one 
vigorous  effort,  and  endeavor  to  force  our  way  through  the 
savages,  the  only  probable  method  of  preserving  our  lives  that 
now  remained.  This,  however  desperate,  was  resolved  on, 
and  about  twenty  of  us  sprung  at  once  into  the  midst  of  them. 

In  a  moment  we  were  all  separated,  and  what  was  the  fate 
of  my  companions  I  could  'not  learn  till  some  months  aft?r, 
when  I  found  that  only  six  or  seven  of  them  effected  their 
design.  Intent  only  on  my  own  hazardous  situation,  I  endea- 
vored to  make  my  way  through  my  savage  enemies  in  the  best 
manner  possible.  And  I  have  often  been  astonished  since, 
when  I  have  recollected  with  what  composure  I  took,  as  I  did, 
every  necessary  step  for  my  preservation.  Some  I  overturned, 
being  at  that  time  young  and  athletic,  and  others  I  passed  by, 
dexterously  avoiding  their  Aveapons ;  till  at  last  two  very  stout 
chiefs,  of  the  most  savage  tribes,  as  I  could  distinguish  by  their 
dress,  whose  strength  I  could  not  resist,  laid  hold  of  me  by 
each  arm,  and  began  to  force  me  through  the  crowd. 

I  now  resigned  myself  to  my  fate,  not  doubting  but  that  they 
intended  to  dispatch  me,  .and  then  to  satiate  their  vengeance 
with  my  blood,  as  I  found  they  were  hurrying  me  towards  a 
retired  swamp  that  lay  at  some  distance.  But  before  we  had 
got  many  yards,  an  English  gentleman  of  some  distinction,  as 
I  could  discover  by  his  breeches,  the  only  covering  he  had  on, 
which  were  of  fine  scarlet  velvet,  rushed  close  by  us.  One  or 
the  Indians  instantly  relinquished  his  hold,  and  springing  on 


^ 


i  ^'li 


176 


CAPTAIN  CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


ifi    r 


this  new  object,  endeavored  to  seize  him  as  his  prey ;  but  the 
gentleman  being  strong,  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and  would 
probably  have  got  away,  had  not  he  who  held  my  other  arm 
quitted  me  to  assist  his  brother.  I  seized  the  opportunity,  and 
hastened  aw«iy  to  join  another  party  of  English  troops  that 
were  yet  unbroken,  and  stood  in  a  body  at  some  distance.  But 
before  I  had  taken  many  steps,  I  hastily  cast  my  eye  towards 
the  gentleman,  and  saw  the  Indian's  tomahawk  gash  into  his 
back,  and  heard  him  utter  his  last  groan.  This  added  both  to 
my  speed  and  desperation. 

I  had  left  this  shocking  scene  but  a  few  yards,  when  a  fine 
boy  about  twelve  years  of  age,  that  had  hitherto  escaped,  came 
up  to  me,  and  begged  that  I  would  let  him  lay  hold  of  me,  so 
that  he  might  stand  some  chance  of  getting  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  savages.  I  told  him  that  I  would  give  him  every  assis- 
tance in  my  power,  and  to  this  purpose  bid  him  lay  hold ;  but 
in  a  few  nriments  he  was  torn  from  my  side,  and  by  his  shrieks 
I  judge  was  soon  demolished.  I  could  not  help  forgetting  my 
own  cares  for  a  minute,  to  lament  the  fate  of  so  young  a  suf- 
ferer ;  but  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  take  any  methods 
to  prevent  it. 

I  now  got  once  more  into  the  midst  of  frier ds,  but  we  were 
unable  to  afford  each  other  any  succor.  As  this  was  the  divi- 
sion that  had  advanced  the  fartjiest  from  the  fort,  I  thought 
there  might  be  a  possibility  (though  but  a  bare  one)  of  my 
forcing  my  way  through  the  outer  ranks  of  the  Indians,  and 
getting  to  a  neighboring  wood,  which  I  perceived  at  some  dis- 
tance. I  was  still  encouraged  to  hope  by  the  almost  miraculous 
preservation  i  had  already  experienced. 

Nor  were  my  hopes  in  vain,  or  the  efforts  I  made  ineffectual. 
Suffice  to  say,  that  I  reached  the  wood ;  but  by  the  time  I  had 
penetrated  a  little  way  mto  it,  my  breath  was  so  exhausted 
that  I  threw  myself  into  a  break,  and  lay  for  some  minutes 
apparently  at  the  last  gasp.  At  length  I  recovered  the  power 
of  respiration ;  but  my  apprehensions  returned  with  all  their 
former  orce,  when  I  saw  several  savages  pass  by,  probably  in 
pursuit  of  me,  at  no  v  y  great  distance.  In  this  situation  I 
knew  not  whether  it  was  better  to  proceed,  or  endeavor  to  con- 
ceal myself  where  I  lay  till  night  cai.ie  on  ;  fearing,  however, 
that  they  would  return  the  same  way,  I  thought  it  most  prudent 
to  get  further  from  the  dreadful  scene  of  my  distresses.  Ac- 
cordingly, striking  into  another  part  of  the  wood,  I  hastened 
on  as  fast  as  the  biiers  and  the  loss  of  one  of  my  shoes  would 

Eermit  roe ;  and  after  a  slow  progress  of  some  hours,  gained  a 
ill  that  overlooked  the  plain  which  I  had  just  left,  from  whence 


;  but  the 
id  would 
ther  arm 
nity,  and 
)ops  that 
ice.  But 
;  towards 
1  into  his 
id  both  to 

len  a  fine 
)ed,  came 
of  me,  so 
he  hands 
ery  assis- 
lold ;  but 
is  shrieks 
stting  my 
ing  a  suf- 
T  methods 

we  were 
the  divi- 
I  thought 
e)  of  my 
ians,  and 
some  dis- 
iraculous 

effectual, 
me  I  had 
xhausted 
minutes 
\e  power 
all  their 
obably  in 
tuation  I 
)r  to  con- 
lowever, 
t  prudent 
es.     Ac- 
hastened 
es  would 
gained  a 
whence 


CAPTAIN    CARVER'S  NARRATIVE. 


177 


I  could  discern  that  the  bloody  storm  still  raged  with  unabated 
fury. 

But  not  to  tire  my  readers,  I  shall  only  add,  that  after  pass- 
ing three  days  without  subsistence,  and  enduring  the  severity 
of  the  cold  dews  for  three  nights,  I  at  length  reached  fort  Ed- 
ward; where  with  proper  care  my  body  soon  recovered  its 
wonted  strength,  and  my  mind,  as  far  as  the  recollection  of  the 
late  molancbrly  events  would  permit,  its  usual  composure. 

It  was  computed  that  fifteen  hundred  persons  were  killed  or 
made  prisoners  by  these  savages  during  this  fatal  day.  Many 
of  the  latter  were  carried  off  by  them  and  never  returned.  A 
few,  through  favorable  accidents,  found  their  way  back  to  their 
native  country,  after  having  experienced  a  long  and  severe 
captivity. 

The  brave  Col.  Monro  had  hastened  away,  soon  after  the 
confusion  began,  to  the  French  camp,  to  endeavor  to  procure 
the  guard  agreed  by  the  stipulation ;  but  his  application  prov- 
ing ineffectual,  he  remained  there  till  General  Webb  sent  a 
party  of  troops  to  demand  and  protect  him  back  to  fort  Edward. 
But  these  unhappy  concurrences,  which  would  probably  have 
been  prevented  had  he  been  left  to  pursue  his  own  plans, 
together  with  the  loss  of  so  many  brave  fellows,  murdered  in 
cold  blood,  to  whose  valor  he  had  been  so  lately  a  witness, 
made  such  an  impression  on  his  mind  that  he  did  not  long 
survive.  He  died  in  about  three  months  of  a  broken  heart,  and 
with  truth  might  it  be  said  that  he  was  an  honor  to  his  coun- 
try. 

I  mean  not  to  point  out  the  following  circumstance  as  the 
immediate  judgment  of  heaven,  and  intended  as  an  atonement 
for  this  slaughter ;  but  I  cannot  omit  that  very  few  of  those 
different  tribes  of  Indians  that  shared  in  it  ever  lived  to  return 
home.  The  small-pox,  by  means  of  their  communication  with 
the  Europeans,  found  its  way  among  them,  and  made  an  equal 
havoc  to  what  they  themselves  had  done.  The  methods  they 
pursued  on  the  first  attack  of  that  malignant  disorder,  to  abate 
the  fever  attending  it,  rendered  it  fatal.  Whilst  their  blood 
was  in  a  state  of  fermentation,  and  nature  was  striving  to  throw 
out  the  peccant  matter,  they  checked  her  operations  by  plung- 
ing into  the  water ;  the  consequence  was  that  they  died  by 
hundreds.  The  few  that  survived  were  transformed  by  it  into 
hideous  objects,  and  bore  with  them  to  the  grave  deep  indented 
marks  of  this  much  dreaded  disease. 

Monsieur  Montcalm  fell  soon  after  on  the  plains  of  Quebec. 

That  the  unprovoked  cruelty  of  this  commander  was  not 
approved  of  by  the  generality  of  his  countrymen,  I  have  since 
been  convinced  of  by  many  proofs.     One  only,  however,  which 


u 


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178 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I  received  from  a  person  who  was  witness  to  it,  shall  I  at  pre- 
sent give.  A  Canadian  merchant,  of  some  consideration, 
having  heard  of  the  surrender  of  the  English  fort,  celebrated 
the  fortunate  event  with  great  rejoicings  and  hospitality,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  that  country  ;  but  no  sooner  did  the 
news  of  the  massacre  which  ensued  reach  his  ears,  than  he 
put  an  immediate  stop  to  the  festivity,  and  exclaimed  in  the 
severest  teri;|ns  against  the  inhuman  permission ;  declaring  at 
the  same  time  that  those  who  had  connived  at  it  had  thereby 
drawn  down  on  that  part  of  their  king's  dominions  the  ven- 
geance of  Heaven.  To  this  he  added,  that  he  much  feared  the 
total  loss  of  them  would  deservedly  be  the  consequence.  How 
truly  this  prediction  has  been  verified  we  well  know. 


AN    ACCOUNT 

OP  THE  REMARKABLE  OCCURRENCES  IN  THE  LIFE  AND 
TRAVELS  OF  COLONEL  JAMES  SMITH,  (LATE  A  CITIZEN  OP 
BOURBON  COUNTY,  KENTUCKY,)  DURING  HIS  CAPTIVITY 
WITH  THE  INDIANS,  IN  THE  YEARS  1755,  '56,  '57,  '58,  AND  '59. 
In  which  the  Customs,  Manners,  Traditions,  Theological  Sentiments,  Mode 
of  Warfare,  Military  Tactics,  Discipline  and  Encampments,  Treatment  of 
Prisoners,  &c.  are  better  explained,  and  more  minutely  related,  than  has  been 
heretofore  done  by  any  author  on  that  subject.  Together  with  a  description 
of  the  Soil,  Timber  and  Waters,  where  iie  travelled  with  the  Indians  during 
his  captivity. — To  which  is  added  a  brief  account  of  some  very  uncommon 
occurrences  which  transpired  after  his  return  from  captivity ;  as  well  as  of 
the  different  campaigns  carried  on  against  the  Indians  to  the  westward  of 
^utt  Pitt,  since  the  year  1755,  to  the  present  date,  1799.— Written  by  himself. 


■f 


Preface. — I  was  strongly  urged  to  publish  the  following 
work  immediately  after  ifiy  return  from  captivity,  which  was 
nearly  forty  years  ago ;  but,  as  at  that  time  the  Americans 
were  so  little  acquainted  with  Indian  affairs,  I  apprehended  a 
great  part  of  it  would  be  viewed  as  fable  or  romance. 

As  the  Indians  never  attempted  to  prevent  me  either  from 
reading  or  writing,  I  kept  a  journal,  which  I  revised  shortly 
after  my  return  from  captivity,  and  which  I  have  kept  ever 
since ;  and  as  I  have  had  but  a  moderate  English  education, 
have  been  advised  -to  employ  some  person  of  liberal  education 
to  transcribe  and  embellish  it — but  believing  that  nature  always 
outshines  art,  have  thought,  that  occurrences  truly  and  plainly 


I.  : 


SS 


tmmim<!smmma~m* 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


179 


:ans 
3d  a 


stated,  as  they  happened,  would  make  the  best  history,  be  bet- 
ter understood,  and  most  entertaining. 

In  the  different  Indian  speeches  copied  into  this  work,  I  have 
not  only  imitated  their  own  style,  or  mode  of  speaking,  but  have 
also  preserved  the  ideas  meant  to  be  communicated  in  those 
speeches.  In  common  conversation  I  have  used  my  own  style, 
but  preserved  their  ideas.  The  principal  advantage  that  I 
expect  will  result  to  the  public,  from  the  publication  of  the  fol- 
lowinc;^  sheets,  is  the  observations  on  the  Indian  mode  of  warfare. 
Experience  has  taught  the  Americans  the  necessity  of  adopting 
their  mode ;  and  the  more  perfect  we  are  in  that  mode,  the 
better  we  shall  be  able  to  defend  ourselves  against  them,  when 
defence  is  necessary. 

JAMES  SMITH. 

Bourbon  County^  June  \st,  1799. 


Introduction. — More  than  thirty  years  have  elapsed  since  the  publica- 
tion of  Col.  Smith's  journal.  The  only  edition  ever  presented  to  the  pub- 
lic was  printed  in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  by  John  Bradford,  in  1799.  That 
edition  being  in  pamphlet  form,  it  is  presumed  that  there  is  not  now  a 
dozen  entire  copies  remaining.  A  new  generation  has  sprung  up,  and  it  is 
believed  the  time  has  now  arrived,  when  a  second  edition,  in  a  more  dura- 
ble form,  will  be  well  received  by  the  public.  The  character  of  Colonel 
Smith  is  well  known  in  the  western  country,  especially  amongst  the  vete- 
ran pioneers  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee.  He  was  a  patriot  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  word.  His  whole  life  was  devoted  to  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try. Raised,  as  it  were,  in  the  wilderness,  he  received  but  a  limited  edu- 
cation ;  yet  nature  had  endowed  him  with  a  vigorous  constitution,  and  a 
strong  and  sensible  mind ;  and  whether  in  the  camp  or  the  halls  of  legis- 
lation, he  gave  ample  proofs  of  being,  by  practice  as  well  as  profe..  jion,  a 
soldier  and  a  statesman. 

During  the  war  of  1811  and  12,  being  then  too  old  to  be  serviceable  in 
the  field,  he  made  a  tender  of  his  experience,  and  published  a  treatise  on 
the  Indian  mode  of  warfare,  with  which  sad  experience  had  made  him  so 
well  acquainted.  He  died  shortly  afterwards,  at  the  house  of  a  brother- 
in-law,  in  Washington  county,  Kentucky.  He  was  esteemed  by  ail  who 
knew  him  as  an  exemplary  Christian,  and  a  consistent  and  unwavering 
patriot. 

By  his  first  marriage,  he  had  several  children ;  and  two  of  his  sons, 
William  and  James,  it  is  believed,  are  now  living.  The  name  of  his  first 
wife  is  not  recollected. 

In  the  year  1785,  he  intermarried  with  Mrs.  Margaret  Irvin,  the  widow 
of  Mr.  Abraham  Irvin.  Mrs.  Irvin  was  a  lady  of  a  highly  cultivated 
mind ;  and  had  she  lived  in  more  auspicious  times,  and  possessed  the 
advantages  of  many  of  her  sex,  she  would  have  made  no  ordinary  figure 
as  a  writer,  both  in  prose  and  verse.  And  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to 
the  friends  of  Col.  Smith  to  give  a  short  sketch  of  her  life.  Her  maiden 
name  was  Rodgers.  ?.ho  was  born  in  the  year  1744,  in  Hanover  county, 
Virginia.  She  was  of  a  respectable  family  ;  her  father  and  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Rodgers,  of  New  York,  were  brothers'  children.  Her  mother  was  sister 
to  the  Rev.  James  Caldwell,  who  was  killed  by  the  British  and  tories  at 
Elizabeth  Point,  New  Jersey.    Her  father  removed,  when  she  was  a  child, 


•# 


inBij 

m 

180     ^ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


to  what  was  then  called  Lunenburg,  now  Charlotte  county,  Virgin'i.  She 
never  went  to  school  but  three  months,  and  that  at  the  age  of  five  years. 
At  the  expiration  of  that  term  the  school  ceased,  and  she  had  no  opportU' 
nity  tc'  attend  one  afterwards.  Her  mother,  h'^wever,  being  an  intelligent 
woman,  and  an  excellent  scholar,  gave  her  i.v::;<'.>s  at  home.  On  the  5th 
of  November,  1764,  she  was  married  to  f-h .  l:v\ix,  a  respectable  man, 
though  in  moderate  circumstances.  In  the  year  1777,  when  r,very  true 
friend  ol  his  country  felt  it  his  duly  to  render  some  personal  service,  he 
and  a  neighbor,  by  the  name  of  William  Handy,  agreed  that  they  would 
enlist  for  the  |erm  of  three  years,  and  each  to  serve  eighteen  months: 
Irvin  to  serve  the  first  half,  and  Handy  the  second.  Mr.  Irvin  entereci 
upon  duty,  in  company  with  many  others  from  that  section  of  the  country. 
When  they  'iid  marched  to  Dumfries,  Va.,  before  they  joined  the  mam 
army,  they  were  ordered  to  halt,  and  inoculate  for  the  small-pox.  Irvin 
neglected  to  inoculate,  under  the  impression  he  had  had  the  disease  during 
infancy.  The  consequence  was,  he  took  the  smali-pox  in  the  natural  way, 
and  died,  leaving  Mrs.  Irvin,  and  five  small  children,  four  sons  and  a 
daughter. 

In  the  fall  of  1782,  Mrs.  Irvin  removed,  in  company  with  a  number  of 
enterprising  Virginians,  to  the  wilds  of  Kentucky  ;  and  three  years  after- 
wards intermarried  with  Col.  Smith,  by  whom  she  had  no  issue.  She  died 
ak)ut  the  year  1800,  in  Bourbon  county,  Kentucky,  in  the  56th  year  of 
lup*  age.  She  was  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian  church,  and  sustained 
t&Tough  life  an  unblemished  reputation.  In  early  life  she  wrote  but  little, 
most  of  her  productions  being  the  fruits  of  her  maturer  years,  and  while 
she  was  the  wife  of  Col.  Smith.  But  littlC''  of  her  composition  has  ever 
been  put  to  press  j  but  her  genius  and  taste  we /e  always  acknowledged  by 
those  who  had  access  to  the  productions  of  her  pen.  She  had  a  hapw 
talent  for  pa.storal  poetry,  and  many  fugitive  pieces  ascribed  to  her  wm 
lo.i'i  be  cherished  and  admired  by  the  children  ot  .song. 

Narrative. — In  May,  1755,  the  province  of  Pennsylvania 
a^eed  to  send  out  three  hundred  men,  in  order  .o  cut  a  wagon 
road  from  fort  Loudon,  to  join  Braddock's  road,  njar  the  Tur- 
key Foot,  or  three  forks  of  Yohogania.  My  brother-in-law, 
William  Smith,  Esq.  of  Conococheague,  was  appointed  com- 
missioner, to  have  the  oversight  of  these  road-cutters. 

Though  I  was  at  that  time  only  eighteen  years  of  age,  I  had 
fallen  violently  in  love  with  a  young  lady,  whom  I  apprehended 
was  possessed  of  a  large  share  of  both  beauty  and  virtue ;  but 
being  born  betwet3n  Venus  and  Mars,  I  concluded  I  must  also 
leave  my  dear  fair  one;  and  go  out  with  this  company  of  road- 
cutters,  to  see  the  event  of  this  campaign ;  but  still  expecting 
that  some  time  in  the  course  of  this  summer  I  should  again 
return  to  the  arms  of  my  beloved. 

We  went  on  with  the  road,  without  interruption,  until  near 
the  Alleghany  mountain ;  when  I  was  sent  back,  in  order  to 
hurry  up  some  provision -wagons  that  were  on  the  way  after 
us.  I  proceeded  down  the  road  as  far  as  the  crossings  of  Ju- 
niata, where,  finding  the  wagons  were  coming  on  as  fast  as 
possible,  I  returned  up  the  road  again  towards   he  Alleghany 


•m 


COLONEL  SMITHS  CAPTIVITY.         * 


*  181 


mountain,  in  company  with  one  Arnold  Vigoras.  About  four 
or  five  miles  above  Bedford,  three  Indians  had  made  a  blind  of 
bushes,  stuck  in  the  ground,  as  though  they  grew  naturally, 
where  thoy  concealed  themselves,  about  fifteen  yards  from  the 
roiid.  When  we  car-e  opposite  to  them,  they  fired  upon  us,  at 
this  short  distance,  and  killed  my  fellow-traveller,  yet  their 
bullets  did  not  touch  me  ;  but  my  horse  making  a  violent  start, 
threw  me,  and  the  Indians  immediately  ran  up  aftd  took  me 
prisoner.     The  one  that   laid   hold  on  me  was  a  Canasatauga, 


the  other  two  were  Delaw: 
English,  and  asked  me  i'' 


coming  after.  I  told  thi  in 
of  these  Indians  stood  b\ 
comrade  ;  they  then  set  off ; 


One  of  them  could  speak 
'   were  any  more  white  men 
^ar  that  I  knew  of.     Two 
'    SI  the  other  scalped  my 
..til  .it  a  smart  rate  through  the 
woods,  for  about  fifteen  miles,  and  that  night  we  slept  on  the 
Alleghany  mountain,  without  fire. 

The  next  morning  they  divided  the  last  of  their  provision 
which  they  had  brought  from  fort  Du  Quesne,  and  gave  me  adif' 
equal  share,  which  was  about  two  or  three  ounces  of  mouldy*^ 
biscuit ;  this  and  a  young  ground-hog,  about  as  large  as  a  rab- 
bit, roasted,  and  also  equally  divided,  was  all  the  provision  we 
had  until  we  came  to  the  Loyal  Hantian,  which  was  about  fifty 
miles  ;  and  a  great  part  of  the  way  we  came  through  exceed- 
ing rocky  laurel  thickets,  without  any  path.  When  we  came 
to  the  west  side  of  Laurel  hill,  they  gave  the  scalp  halloo,  as 
usual,  which  is  a  long  yell  or  halloo  for  every  scalp  or  prisoner 
they  have  in  possession ;  the  last  of  these  scalp  halloos  were 
followed  with  quick  and  sudden  shrill  shouts  of  joy  and  tri- 
umph. On  their  performing  this,  we  were  answered  by  the 
firing  of  a  number  of  guns  on  the  Loyal  Hannan,  one  after 
another,  quicker  than  one  could  count,  by  another  party  of 
Indians,  who  were  encamped  near  where  Ligoneer  now  stands. 
As  we  advanced  near  this  party,  they  increased  with  repeated 
shouts  of  joy  and  triumph ;  but  I  did  not  share  with  them  in 
their  excessive  mirth.  When  we  came  to  this  camp,  we  found 
they  had  plenty  of  turkeys  and  other  meat  there ;  and  though 
I  never  before  eat  venison  without  bread  or  salt,  yet  as  I  was 
hungry  it  relished  very  well.  There  we  lay  that  night,  and 
the  next  morning  the  whole  of  us  marched  on  our  way  for  fort 
Du  Quesne.  The  night  after  we  joined  another  camp  of  In- 
dians, with  nearly  the  same  ceremony,  attended  with  great 
noise,  and  apparent  joy,  among  all  except  one.  The  next 
morning  we  continued  our  march,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  came 
in  full  view  of  the  fort,  which  stood  on  the  point,  near  where 
fort  Pitt  now  stands.  We  then  made  a  halt  on  the  bank  of  the 
Alleghany,  and  repeated  the  scalp  halloo,  which  was  answered 


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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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,§0LONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 

by  the  firing  of  all  the  firelocks  in  the  hands  of  both  Indians 

and  French  who  were  in  and  about  the  fort,  in  the  aforesaid 

manner,  and  also  the  great  guns,  which  were  followed  by  the 

**        continued  shouts  and  yells  of  the  different  savage  tribes  who 

were  then  collected  there. 
■0  As  I  was  at  this  time  unacquainted  with  this  mode  of  firing 

and  yelling  of  the  savages,  I  concluded  that  there  were  thou- 
sands of  Indians  there  ready  to  receive  General  Braddock ;  but 
what  added  to  my  surprise,  I  saw  numbers  running  towards 
me,  stripped  naked,  excepting  breech-clouts,  and  painted  in  the 
most  hideous  manner,  of  various  colors,  though  the  principal 
QoloT  was  Vermillion,  or  a  bright  red  ;  yet  there  was  annexed  to 
'''^his  black,  brown,  blue,  &c.  As  they  approached,  they  formed 
themselves  into  two  long  ranks,  about  two  or  three  rods  apart. 
I  was  told  by  an  Indian  that  could  speak  English,  that  I  must 
run  betwixt  these  ranks,  and  that  they  would  flog  me  all  the 
way  as  I  ran ;  and  if  I  ran  quick,  it  would  be  so  much  the 
%tter,  as  they  would  quit  when  I  got  to  the  end  of  the  ranks, 
^here  appeared  to  be  a  general  rejoicing  around  me,  yet  I 
could  find  nothing  like  joy  in  my  breast ;  but  I  started  to  the 
race  with  all  the  resolution  and  vigor  I  was  capable  of  exerting, 
and  found  that  it  was  as  I  had  been  told,  for  I  v;as  flogged  the 
whole  way.  When  I  had  got  near  the  end  of  the  lines,  I  was 
struck  with  something  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  stick,  or  the 
handle  of  a  tomahawk,  which  caused  me  to  fall  to  the  ground. 
On  my  recovering  my  senses,  I  endeavored  to  renew  my  race ; 
but  as  I  arose,  some  one  cast  sand  in  my  eyes,  which  blinded 
me  so  that  I  could  not  see  where  to  run.  They  continued 
beating  me  most  intolerably,  until  I  was  at  length  insensible ; 
but  before  I  lost  my  senses,  I  remember  my  wishing  them  to 
strike  the  fatal  blow,  for  I  thought  they  intended  killing  me, 
but  apprehended  they  were  too  long  about  it. 

The  first  thing  I  remember  was  my  being  in  the  fort  amidst 
the  French  and  Indians,  and  a  French  doctor  standing  by  me, 
who  had  opened  a  vein  in  my  left  arm :  after  which  the  inter- 
preter asked  me  how  I  did ;  I  told  him  I  felt  much  pain.  The 
doctor  then  washed  my  wounds,  and  the  bruised  places  of  my 
body,  with  French  brandy.  As  I  felt  faint,  and  the  brandy 
smelt  well,  I  asked  for  some  inwardly,  but  the  doctor  told  me, 
by  the  interpreter,  that  it  did  not  suit  my  case. 

When  they  found  I  could  speak,  a  number  of  Indians  came 

^  J  around  me,  and  examined  me,  with  threats  of  cruel  death  if  I 

did  not  tell  the  truth.     The  first  question  they  asked  me  was 

.   how  many  men  were  there  in  the  party  that  were  coming  from 

Pennsylvania  to  join  Braddock  ?    I  told  them  the  truth,  that 

there  were  three  hundred.     The  next  question  was,  were  they 


^* 


•ii3i 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


^  188 


ndians 
sresaid 
by  the 
es  who 

f  firing 
•e  thou- 
:k;  but 
towards 
i  in  the 
rincipal 
lexed  to 
'  formed 
Is  apart. 
1 1  must 
e  all  the 
luch  the 
le  ranks, 
le,  yet  I 
ed  to  the 
exerting, 
gged  the 
,es,  I  was 
;k,  or  the 

ground, 
ny  race ; 
1  blinded 

ontinued 
sensible ; 

them  to 

lling  me, 

rt  amidst 
g  hy  me, 
the  inter- 
lin.  The 
|es  of  my 
brandy 
told  me, 

ans  cf&ie 
ieath  if  I 
me  was 
lling  from 
futh,  that 
«rere  they 


well  armed  ?  I  told  them  they  were  all  well  armed,  (meaning 
the  arm  of  flesh,)  for  they  had  only  about  thirty  guns  among 
the  whole  of  them ;  which  if  the  Indians  had  known,  they  | 
would  certainly  have  gone  and  cut  them  all  off;  therefore,  I 
could  not  in  conscience  let  them  know  the  defenceless  situation 
of  these  road-cutters.  I  was  then  sent  to  the  hospital,  and 
carefully  attended  by  the  doctors,  and  recovered  quicker  than 
what  I  expected.  % 

Some  time  after  I  was  there,  I  was  visited  by  the  Delaware 
Indian  already  mentioned,  who  was  at  the  taking  of  me,  and 
could  speak  some  English.  Though  he  spoke  but  bad  English, 
yet  I  found  him  to  be  a  man  of  considerable  understanding. 
I  asked  him  if  I  had  done  any  thing  that  had  offended  the  InW 
dians  which  caused  them  to  treat  me  so  unmercifully.  He 
said  no ;  it  was  only  an  old  custom  the  Indians  had,  and  it  was 
li\pe  how  do  you  do ;  after  that,  he  said,  I  would  be  well  used. 
I  asked  him  if  I  should  be  admitted  to  remain  with  the  French. 
He  said  no ;  and  told  mp  that,  as  soon  as  I  recovered,  I  millfc 
not  only  go  with  the  Indians,  but  must  be  made  an  Indian  mvb 
self.  I  asked  him  what  news  from  Braddock's  army.  He 
said  the  Indians  spied  them  every  day,  and  he  showed  me,  by 
making  marks  on  the  ground  with  a  stick,  that  Braddock's 
army  was  advancing  in  very  close  order,  and  that  the  Indians 
would  surround  them,  take  trees,  and  (as  he  expressed  it)  shoot 
um  down  all  one  pigeon. 

Shortly  after  this,  on  the  9th  day  of  July,  1755,  in  the 
morning,  I  heard  a  great  stir  in  the  fort.  As  I  could  then 
walk  with  a  staff  in  my  hand,  I  went  out  of  the  door,  which 
was  just  by  the  wall  of  the  foVt,  and  stood  upon  the  wall,  and 
viewed  the  Indians  in  a  huddle  before  the  gate,  where  were 
barrels  of  powder,  bullets,  flints,  &c.,  and  every  ono  taking 
what  suited.  I  saw  the  Indians  also  march  off  in  rank  entire ; 
likewise  the  French  Canadians,  and  some  regulars.  After 
viewing  the  Indians  and  French  in  different  positions,  I  com- 
puted them  to  be  about  four  hundred,  and  wondered  that  they 
attempted  to  go  out  against  Braddock  with  so  small  a  party. 
I  was  then  in  high  hopes  that  I  would  soon  see  them  fly  before 
the  British  troops,  and  that  General  Braddock  would  take  the 
fort  and  rescue  me. 

I  remained  anxious  to  know  the  event  of  this  day ;  and,  in 
the  afternoon,  I  again  observed  a  great  noise  and  commotion 
in  the  fort,  and  though  at  that  time  I  could  not  understand 
French,  yet  I  found  that  it  was  the  voice  of  joy  and  triumph, 
and  feared  that  they  had  received  what  I  called  bad  news. 

I  had  observed  some  of  the  old  country  soldiers  speak 
Dutch :  as  I  spoke  Dutch,  I  went  to  one  of  them,  and  asked 


i 


^P" 


«  M 


■A 


m 


m 


\*s 


184 


* 


:k''^^ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


him  what  was  the  news.  He  told  me  that  a  runner  had  just 
arrived,  who  said  that  Braddock  would  certainly  be  defeated ; 
that  the  Indians  and  French  had  surrounded  him,  and  were 
concealed  behind  trees  and  in  gullies,  and  kept  a  constant  fire 
upon  the  English,  and  that  ihey  saw  the  English  falling  in 
heaps,  and  if  th#y  did  not  take  the  river,  which  was  the  only 
gap,  and  make  their  escape,  there  would  not  be  one  man  left 
alive  heforeilundown.  Some  time  after  this  I  heard  a  number 
of  scalp  halloos,  and  saw  a  company  of  Indians  and  French 
coming  in.  I  observed  they  had  a  ^teat  many  bloody  scalps, 
grenadiers'  caps,  British  canteens,  bayonets,  &c.  with  them. 
They  brought  the  news  that  Braddock  was  defeated.  After 
tha^' another  company  came  in,  which  appeared  to  be  about  one 
hundred,  and  chiefly  Indians,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  almost 
every  one  of  this  company  was. ^carrying  scalps;  after  this 
came  another  company  with  a  number  of  wagon  horses,  and 
also  a  great  many  scalps.  Those  that  were  coming  in,  and 
w)se  that  had  arrived,  kept  a  constant  firing  of  small  arms, 
l^d  also  the  great  guns  in  the  fort,  which  were  accompanied 
with  the  most  hideous  shouts  and  yells  from  all  quarters ;  so 
that  it  appeared  to  me  as  if  the  infernal  regions  had  broke 
loose. 

About  sundown  I  beheld  a  small  party  coming  in  with 
about  a  dozen  prisoners,  stripped  naked,  with  theii^ands  tied 
behind  their  backs,  and  their  faces  and  part  of  their  bodies 
blacked  ;  these  prisoners  they  burned  to  death  on  the  bank  of 
Alleghany  river,  opposite  to  the  fort.  I  stood  on  the  fort  wall 
until  I  beheld  them  begin  to  burn  one  of  e  men;  they 
had  him  tied  to  a  stake,  and  kept  touching  hi;  ith  firebrands, 
red-hot  irons,  &c.,  and  he  screamed  in  a  most  doleful  manner ; 
the  Indians,  in  the  mean  time,  yelling  like  infernal  spirits. 

As  this  scene  appeared  too  shocking  for  me  to  behold,  I 
retired  to  my  lodgings  both  sore  and  sorry. 

When  I  came  into  my  lodgings  I  saw  Russel's  Seven  Ser- 
mons, which  they  had  brought  from  the  field  of  battle,  which  a 
Frenchman  made  a  present  to  me.  From  the  best  information 
I  could  receive,  there  were  only  seven  Indians  and  four  French 
killed  in  this  battle,  and  five  hundred  British  lay  dead  in  the 
field,  besides  what  were  killed  in  the  river  on  their  retreat. 

The  morning  after  the  battle  I  saw  Braddock's  artillery 
brought  into  the  fort ;  the  same  day  I  also  saw  several  Indians 
in  British  officers'  dress,  with  sash,  half  moon,  laced  hats,  &c., 
which  the  British  then  wore. 

A  few  days  after  this  the  Indians  demanded  me,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  go  with  them.  I  was  not  yet  well  able  to  march, 
but  they  took  me  in  a  canoe  up  the  Alleghany  river  to  an  In- 


J&*  % 


«. 


It 


COLONEL  SMITHS  CAPTIVITY. > 


%*    186 


lad  just 
sfeated ; 
id  were 
tant  fire 
lUing  in 
he  only 
nan  left 
number 

French 
J  scalps, 
h  thern. 
.  After 
bout  one 
it  almost 
Fter  this 
rses,  atid 

in,  and 
Eili  arms, 
mpanied 
rters;  so 
ad  broke 

in  with 
inds  tied 
ir  bodies 
}  bank  of 
fort  wall 
m;  they 
rebrands, 
manner ; 

(irits. 

)ehold,  I 

ven  Ser- 

which  a 

brmation 

French 

id  in  the 

reat. 

artillery 

Indians 

lats,  &c., 

nd  I  was 
0  march, 
to  an  In- 


dian town,  that  was  on  the  north  side  of  the  river,  about  forty 
miles  above  fort  Du  Quesne.  Here  I  remained  about  three 
weeks,  and  was  then  taken  to  an. Indian  town  on  the  west 
branch  of  Muskingum,  about  twenty  miles  above  the  forks, 
which  was  called  TuUihag,  inhabited  by  Delawares,  Caughne- 
wagas,  and  Mohicans.  On  our  route  betwixt  the  aforesaid 
towns  the  country  was  chiefly  black  oak  an(f  white  oak  land, 
which  appeared  generally  to  be  good  wheat  land,  oj^iefly  second 
and  third  rate,  intermixed  with  some  rich  bottoms. 

The  day  after  my  ari^yal  at  the  aforesaid  town,  a  number 
of  Indians  collected  about  me,  and  one  of  them  began  to  puU 
the  hair  out  of  my  head.  He'  had  some  ashes  on  a  piece  of 
bark,  in  which  he  frequently  dipped  his  fingers,  in  ordir  to 
take  the  firmer  hold,  and  so  he  went  on,  as  if  he  had  been 
plucking  a  turkey,  until  he  had  all  the  hair  clean  out  of  my 
head,  except  a  small  spot  alHout  three  or  four  inches  square  on 
my  crown;  this  they  cut  off  with  a  pair  of  scissors,  excepting 
three  locks,  which  they  dressed  up  in  their  own  mode.  T^ 
of  these  they  wrapped  round  with  a  narrow  beaded  garter 
made  by  themselves  for  that  purpose,  and  the  other  they  plait^ 
at  full  length,  a^jd  then  stuck  it  full  of  silver  brooches.  After 
this  they  bored  my  nose  and  ears,  and  fixed  me  off  with  ear- 
rings and  nose  jewels ;  then  they  ordered  me  to  strip  off  my 
clothes  and  put  on  a  breech-clout,  which  I  did ;  they  then 
painted  ni^  head,  face,  and- body,  in  various  colors.  They  put 
a, large  belt  of  wampum  on  my  neck,  and  silver  bands  on  my 
hands  and  right  arm ;  and  so  an  old  chief  led  me  out  in  the 
street,  and  gave  the  alarm  halloo,  coo-wight  several  times 
repeated  quick ;  and  on  this,  all  that  were  in  the  town  came 
running  and  stood  round  the  old  chief,  who  held  me  by  the 
hand  in  the  midst.  As  I  at  that  time  knew  nothing  of  their 
mode  of  adoption,  and  had  seen  them  put  to  death  all  they  had 
taken,  and  as  I  never  could  find  that  they  saved  a  man  alive 
at  Braddock's  defeat,  I  made  no  doubt  but  they  were  about 

Eutting  me  to  death  in  some  cruel  manner.  The  old  chief, 
olding  me  by  the  hand,  made  a  long  speech,  very  loud,  and 
when  he  had  done,  he  handed  me  to  three  young  squaws, 
who  led  me  by  the  hand  down  the  bank,  into  the  river,  until 
the  water  was  up  to  our  middle.  The  squaws  then  made  signs 
to  me  to  plunge  myself  into  the  water,  but  I  did  not  understand 
them ;  I  thought  that  the  result  of  the  council  was  that  I 
should  be  drowned,  and  that  these  young  ladies  were  to  be  the 
executioners.  They  all  three  laia  violent  hold  of  me,  and  I 
for  some  time  opposed  them  with  all  my  might,  which  occa- 
sioned loud  laughter  by  the  multitude  that  were  on  the  bank 
of  the  river.     At  length  one  of  the  squaws  made  out  to  speajlf 

16* 


■»■. 


« 


n 


f 


{?i. 


t- 


^T 


0 


#■ 


m 


.-f^.y?"" 


V5 


186  # 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


a  little  English,  (for  I  believe  they  began  to  be  afraid  of  me,) 
and  said  no  hurt  you.  On  this  I  gave  myself  up  to  their  lady- 
sliips,  who  were  as  good  as  their  word ;  for  though  they 
plunged  me  under  water,  and  washed  and  rubbed  me  severely, 
yet  I  could  not  say  they  hurt  me  much. 

These  young  women  then  led  me  up  to  the  council  house, 
where  some  of  the  tribe  were  ready  with  new  clothes  for  me. 
They  gave  jgie  a  nev/  ruffled  shirt,  which  I  put  on,  also  a  pair 
of  leggins  done  off  with  ribbons  and  beads,  likewise  a  pair  of 
moccasins,  and  garters  dressed  with  beads,  porcupine  quills, 
and  red  hair — also  a  tinsel  laced  cappo.  They  again  painted 
my  head  and  face  with  various  colors,  and  tied  a  bunch  of  red 
feathers  to  one  of  those  locks  they  had  left  on  the  crown  of 
my  head,  which  stood  up  five  or  six  inches.  They  seated  me 
on  a  bearskin,  and  gave  m&  a  pipe,  tomahawk,  and  polecat- 
skin  pouch,  which  had  been  skinned  pocket  fashion,  and  con- 
tained tobacco,  killegenico,  or  dry  sumach  leaves,  which  they 
mix  with  their  tobacco ;  also  spunk,  flint,  and  steel.  When  I 
was  thus  seated,  the  Indians  came  in  dressed  and  painted  in 
meir  grandest  manner.  As  they  came  in  they  took  their  seats, 
and  for  a  considerable  time  there  was  a  profound  silence — 
every  one  Avas  smoking ;  but  not  a  word  was  spoken  among 
them.  At  length  one  of  the  chiefs  made  a  speech,  which  was 
delivered  to  me  by  an  interpreter,  and  was  as  followeth  :  •'  My 
son,  you  are  now  flesh  of  our  flesh,  aiid  bone  of  our  bone.  By 
the  ceremony  which  was  performed  this  day  every  drop  of 
white  blood  was  washed  out  of  your  veins ;  you  are  taken  into 
the  Caughnewago  nation,  and  initiated  into  a  warlike  tribe ; 
you  are  adopted  into  a  great  family,  and  now  received  with  great 
seriousness  and  solemuity  in  the  room  and  place  of  a  great 
man.  After  what  has  passed  this  day,  you  are  now  one  of  us 
by  an  old  strong  law  and  custom.  My  son,  you  have  now 
nothing  to  fear — we  are  now  under  the  same  obligations  to 
•love,  support,  and  defend  you  that  we  are  to  love  and  to  defend 
one  another ;  therefore,  you  are  to  consider  yourself  as  one  of 
our  people."  At  this  time  I  did  not  believe  this  fine  speech, 
especially  that  of  the  white  blood  being  washed  out  of  me  ;  but 
since  that  time  I  have  found  that  there  was  much  sincerity 
in  said  speech ;  for,  from  that  day,  I  never  knew  them  to  make 
any  distinction  between  me  and  themselves  in  any  respect 
whatever  until  I  left  them.  If  they  had  plenty  of  clothing,  I 
had  plenty ;  if  we  were  scarce,  we  all  shared  one  fate. 

After  this  ceremony  was  over,  I  was  introduced  to  my  new 
kin,  and  told  that  I  was  to  attend  a  feast  that  evening,  which 
I  did.  And  as  the  custom  was,  they  gave  me  also  a  bowl  and 
wooden  spoon,  which  I  carried  with  me  to  the  place,  where 


j=:\.Afi.v'^»!!j*^.1 


m 


[y  new 
j  which 
Ivl  and 
1  where 


--J.': 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CA.?rmTt7% 


*        # 


187 


there  was  a  number  of  large  brass  kettles  full  of  boiled  veni- 
son and  green  corn ;  every  one  advanced  with  his  bowl  and 
spoon,  and  had  his  share  given  him.  After  this,  one  of  the 
chiefs  made  a  short  speech,  and  then  we  began  to  eat. 

The  name  of  one  of  the  chiefs  in  this  town  was  Tecanyate- 
righto,  alias  Pluggy,  and  the  other  Asallecoa,  ahas  Mohawk 
Solomon.  As  Piuggy  and  his  party  were  to  start  the  next  day 
to  war,  to  the  frontiers  of  Virginia,  the  next  thilig  to  be  per- 
formed was  the  war-dance,  and  their  war-songs.  At  their  war- 
dance  they  had  both  vocal  and  instrumental  music ;  they  had 
a  short  hollow  gum,  closed  at  one  end,  with  water  in  it,  and 
parchment  stretched  over  the  open  end  thereof,  which  the&beat 
with  one  stick,  and  made  a  sound  nearly  like  a  muffled  drum. 
All  those  who  were  going  on  this  expedition  collected  together 
and  formed.  An  old  Indian  then  began  to  sing,  and  timed  the 
music  by  beating  on  this  drum,  as  the  ancients  formerly  timed 
their  music  by  beating  the  tabor.  On  this  the  warriors  began 
to  advance,  or  move  forward  in  concert,  like  well-disciplined 
troops  would  march  to  the  fife  and  drum.  Each  warrior  h^ji 
a  tomahawk,  spear,  or  war-mallet  in  his  hand,  and  they  all 
moved  regularly  towards  the  east,  or  the  way  they  intended  to 
go  to  war.  At  length  they  all  stretched  their  tomahawks 
towards  the  Potomac,  and  giving  a  hideous  shout  or  yell,  they 
wheeled  (^uick  about,  and  danced  in  the  same  manner  back. 
The  next"  was  the  war-song.  In  performing  this,  only  one 
sung  at  a  time,  in  a  moving  posture,  with  a  tomahawk  in  his 
hand,  while  all  the  other  warriors  were  engaged  in  calling 
aloud  he-uhf  he-uh^  which  they  constantly  repeated  while  the 
war-song  was  going  on.  When  the  warrior  that  was  singing 
had  ended  his  song,  he  struck  a  war-post  with  his  tomahawk, 
and  with  a  loud  voice  told  what  warlike  exploits  he  had  done, 
and  what  he  now  intended  to  do,  which  were  answered  by  the 
other  warriors  with  loud  shouts  of  applause.  Some  who  had 
not  before  intended  to  go  to  war,  at  this  time,  were  so  animated 
by  this  performance,  that  they  took  up  the  tomahawk  and  sung 
the  war-song,  which  was  answered  with  shouts  of  joy,  as  they 
were  then  initiated  into  the  present  marching  company.  The 
next  morning  this  company  all  collected  at  one  place,  with  their 
heads  and  faces  painted  with  various  colors,  and  packs  upon 
their  backs ;  they  marched  off,  all  silent,  except  the  command- 
er, who,  in  the  front,  sung  the  travelling  song,  which  began  in 
this  manner :  hoo  caughtainte  heegana.  Just  as  the  rear  pass- 
ed the  end  of  the  town,  they  began  to  fire  in  their  slow  man- 
ner, from  the  front  to  the  rear,  which  was  accompanied  with 
shouts  and  yells  from  all  quarters. 

This  evening  I  was  invited  to  another  sort  of  dance,  which 


at 


'^S: 


■iv»-^  \  fV 


188   ^ 


';V. 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


was  a  kind  of  promiscuous  dance.  The  young  men  stood  in 
one  rank,  and  the  young  women  in  another,  about  one  rod  apart, 
facing  each  other.  The  one  that  raised  the  tune,  or  started 
the  song,  held  a  small  gourd  or  dry  shell  of  a  squash  in  his 
hand,  which  contained  beads  or  small  stones,  which  rattled. 
When  he  began  to  sing,  he  timed  the  tune  with  his  rattle ;  both 
men  and  women  danced  and  sung  together,  advancing  towards 
each  other,  stooping  until  their  heads  would  be  touching  to- 
gether, and  then  ceased  from  dancing,  with  loud  shouts,  and 
retreated  and  formed  again,  and  so  repeated  the  same  thing 
over  and  over,  for  three  or  four  hours,  without  intermission. 
This  'exercise  appeared  to  me  at  first  irrational  and  insipid ; 
but  I  found  that  in  singing  their  tunes  they  used  yaTieno  hoo 
toa  ne,  Sec,  like  our  fa  sol  la,  and  though  they  have  no  such 
thing  as  jingling  verse,  yet  they  can  intermix  sentences  with 
their  notes,  and  say  what  they  please  to  each  other,  and  carry 
on  the  tune  in  concert.  I  found  that  this  was  a  kind  of  wooing 
or  courting  dance,  and  as  they  advanced  stooping  with  their 
heads  together,  they  could  say  what  they  pleased  in  each  oth- 
er's ear,  without  disconcerting  their  rough  music,  and  the  others, 
or  those  near,  not  hear  what  they  said. 

Shortly  after  this  I  went  out  to  hunt,  in  company  with  Mo- 
hawk Solomon,  some  of  the  Caughnewagas,  and  a  Delaware 
Indian,  that  was  married  to  a  Caughnewaga  squaw.  We  tra- 
velled about  south  from  this  town,  and  the  first  night  we  killed 
nothing,  but  we  had  with  us  green  corn,  which  we  roasted  and 
ate  that  night.  The  next  day  we  encamped  about  twelve 
o'clock,  and  the  hunters  turned  out  to  hunt,  and  I  went  down 
the  run  that  we  encamped  on,  in  company  with  some  squaws 
and  boys,  to  hunt  plums,  which  we  found  in  great  plenty.  On 
my  return  to  camp  I  observed  a  large  piece  of  fat  meat ;  the 
Delaware  Indian,  that  could  talk  some  English,  observed  me 
looking  earnestly  at  this  meat,  and  asked  me,  what  meat  you 
think  that  is?  I  said  I  supposed  it  was  bear  meat ;  he  laugh- 
ed, and  said,  ho,  all  one  fool  you,  beal  now  elly  pool,  and  point- 
ing to  the  other  side  of  the  camp,  he  said,  look  at  that  skin, 
you  think  that  beal  skin  ?  I  went  and  lifted  the  skin,  which 
appeared  like  an  ox-hide  ;  he  then  said,  what  skin  you  think 
that  ?  I  replied,  that  I  thought  it  was  a  buffalo  hide ;  he 
laughed,  and  said,  you  fool  again,  you  know  nothing,  you  think 
buffalo  that  colo'f  I  acknowledged  I  did  not  know  much  about 
these  things,  and  told  him  I  never  saw  a  buffalo,  and  that  I 
had  not  heard  what  color  they  were.  He  replied,  by  and  by 
you  shall  see  gleat  many  buffalo;  he  now  go  to  gleat  lick. 
That  skin  no  buffalo  skin,  that  skin  bu^k-elk  skin.     They  went 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY."*  *►     189 

out  wiih  horses,  and  brought  in  the  remainder  of  this  buck-elk, 
which  was  the  fattest  creature  I  ever  saw  of  the  tallow  kind. 

We  remained  at  this  camp  about  eight  or  ten  days,  and  kill- 
ed a  number  of  deer.  Though  we  had  neither  bread  nor  salt 
at  this  time,  yet  we  had  both  roast  and  boiled  meat  in  great 
plenty,  and  they  were  frequently  inviting  me  to  eat  when  I  had 
no  appetite. 

We  then  moved  to  the  buffalo  lick,  where  we  killed  several 
buffalo,  and  in  their  small  brass  kettles  they  made  about  half  a 
bushel  of  salt.  I  suppose  this  lick  was  about  thirty  or  forty 
miles  from  the  aforesaid  town,  and  somewhere  between  the 
Muskingum,  Ohio,  and  Sciota.  About  the  lick  was  clearj 
open  woods,  and  thin  white  oak  land,  and  at  that  time  there 
were  large  roads  leading  to  the  lick,  like  wagon  roads.  We 
moved  from  this  lick  about  six  or  seven  miles,  and  encamped 
on  a  creek. 

Though  the  Indians  had  given  me  a  gun,  I  had  not  yet  been 
admitted  to  go  out  from  the  camp  to  hunt.  At  this  place  Mo- 
hawk Solomon  asked  me  to  go  out  with  him  to  hunt,  which  I 
readily  agreed  to.  After  some  time  we  came  upon  some  fresh 
bufialo  tracks.  I  had  observed  before  this  that  the  Indians 
were  upon  their  guard,  and  afraid  of  an  enemy ;  for,  until  now, 
they  and  the  southern  nations  had  been  at  war.  As  we  were 
following  the  buffalo  tracks,  Solomon  seemed  to  be  upon  his 
guard,  went  very  slow,  and  would  freque'ntly  stand  and  listen, 
and  appeared  to  be  in  suspense.  We  came  to  where  the  tracks 
X^ere  very  plain  in  the  sand,  and  I  said  it  is  surely  buffalo 
tracks ;  he  said,  husk,  you  knoio  nothing,  may  be  buffalo  tracks^ 
may  be  Catawba.  He  went  very  cautious  until  we  four  i  pome 
fresh  buffalo  dung;  he  then  smiled,  and  said,  Catawba  tunnot 
make  so.  He  then  stopped,  and  told  me  an  odd  story  about 
the  Catawbas.  He  said  that  formerly  the  Catawbas  came  near 
one  of  their  hunting  camps,  and  at  some  distance  from  the 
camp  lay  in  ambush  ;  and  in  order  to  decoy  them  out,  sent  two 
or  three  Catawbas  in  the  night  past  their  camp,  with  buffalo 
hoofs  fixed  on  their  feet,  so  as  to  make  artificial  tracks.  In  the 
morning,  those  in  the  camp  followed  after  these  tracks,  thinking 
they  were  buffalo,  until  they  were  fired  on  by  the  Catawbas, 
and  several  of  them  killed.  The  others  fled,  collected  a  party 
and  pursued  the  Catawbas  ;  but  they,  in  their  subtilty,  brought 
with  them  rattlesnake  poison,  which  they  had  collected  from 
the  bladder  that  lieth  at  the  root  of  the  snake's  teeth ;  this  they 
had  corked  up  in  a  short  piece  of  a  cane-stalk.  They  had  also 
brought  with  them  small  cane  or  reed,  about  the  size  of  u  rye- 
straw,  which  they  made  sharp  at  the  end  like  a  pen,  and  dip- 
ped them  in  this  poison,  and  stuck  them  in  the  ground  among 


190 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


the  grass,  along  their  own  tracks,  in  such  a  position  that  they 
might  stick  into  the  legs  of  the  pursuers,  which  answered  the 
design ;  and  as  the  Catawbas  h||^  runners  behind  to  watch  the 
motion  of  the  pursuers,  when  they  found  that  a  number  of  them 
were  lame,  being  artificially  snake  bit,  and  that  they  were  all 
turning  back,  the  Catawbas  turned  upon  the  pursuers,  and  de- 
feated them,  and  killed  and  scalped  all  those  that  were  lame. 
When  Solomon^had  finished  this  story,  and  found  that  I  un- 
n,.^  derstood  him,  he  concluded  by  saying,  you  donH  kiiom,  Catawba 
velly  bad  Indian,  Catawba  all  one  devil  Catawba. 

Some  time  after  this,  I  was  told  to  take  the  dogs  with  me, 
^      and  go  down  the  creek,  perhaps  I  might  kill'a  turkey ;  it  being 
in  the  afternoon,  I  was  also  told  not  to  go  far  from  the  creek, 
and  to  come  up  the  creek  again  to  the  camp,  and  to  take  care 
not  to  get  lost.     When  I  had  gone  some  distance  down  the 
creek,  I  came  upon  fresh  buffalo  tracks,  and  as  I  had  a  number 
of  dogs  with  me  to  stop  the  buflfalo,  I  concluded  I  would  follow 
f^      after  and  kill  one ;  and  as  the  grass  and  weeds  were  rank,  I 
could  readily  follow  the  track.     A  little  before  sundown  I  des- 
pa:ired  of  coming  up  with  them.     I  was  then  thinking  how  I 
might  get  to  camp  before  night.    I  concluded,  as  the  bufialo  had 
made  several  turns,  if  I  took  the  track  back  to  the  creek  it 
would  be  dark  before  I  could  get  to  camp ;  therefore  I  thought 
I  would  take  a  near  way  through  the  hills,  and  strike  the  creek 
^"*  a  little  below  the  c&mp;  but  as  it  was  cloudy  weather,  and  I 
a  very  young  woodsman,  I  could  find  neither  creek  nor  camp. 
1  When  night  came  on  I  fired  my  gun  several  times,  and  hal- 
'H    looed,  but  could  have  no  answer.     The  next  morning  early, 
the  Indians  were  out  after  me,  and  as  I  had  with  me  ten  or  a 
dozen  dogs,  and  the  grass  and  weeds  rank,  they  could  readily 
'%'  ^         follow  my  track.     When  they  came  up  with  me,  they  appeared 
to  be  in  very  good  humor.     I  asked  Solomon  if  he  thought  I 
was  running  away ;  he  said,  no,  no,  you  go  too  much  choked. 
On  my  return  to  camp  they  took  my  gun  from  me,  and  for  this 
rash  step  I  was  reduced  to  a  bow  and  arrows,  for  near  two 
years.'    We  were  out  on  this  tour  for  about  six  weeks. 

This  country  is  generally  hilly,  though  intermixed  with 
considerable  quantities  of  rich  upland,  and  some  good  bottoms. 

When  we  returned  to  the  town,  Pluggy  and  his  party  had 
arrived,  and  brought  with  them  a  considerable  number  of  scalps 
and  prisoners  from  the  south  branch  of  the  Potomac ;  they 
also  brought  with  them  an  English  Bible,  which  they  gave  to 
a  Dutch  woman  who  was  a  prisoner ;  but  as  she  could  not 
read  English,  she  made  a  present  of  it  to  me,  which  was  very 
acceptable. 

I  remained  in  this  town  until  some  time  in  October,  when 


'r'jj* 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


191 


d  with 
ottoms. 
rty  had 
"  scalps 

;  they 
^ave  to 

Id  not 
as  very 

,  when 


my  adopted  brother,  called  Tontileaugo,  who  had  married  a 
"Wyandot  squaw,  took  me  with  him  to  lake  Erie.  We  pro- 
ceeded up  the  west  branch  of^Muskingum,  and  for  some  dis- 
tance up  the  river  the  land  was  hilly,  but  intermixed  with  larffo 
bodies  of  tolerable  rich  upland,  and  excellent  bottoms.  We 
proceeded  on  to  the  head  waters  of  the  west  branch  of  Musk- 
mgum.  On  the  head  waters  of  this  branch,  and  from  thence 
to  the  waters  of  Canesadooharie,  there  is  a  large  body  of  rich, 
well  lying  land ;  the  timber  is  ash,  walnut,  sugar-tree,  buckeye, 
honey'locust,  and  cherry,  intermixed  with  some  oak,  hickory, 
&c.  This  tour  was  at  the  time  that  the  black  haws  were  ripe, 
and  we  were  seldom  out  of  sight  of  them ;  they  were  commoiL 
here  both  in  the  bottoms  and  upland.  .vi!S.;T 

On  this  route  we  had  no  horses  with  us,  and  when  we  start- 
ed from  the  town  all  the  pack  I  carried  was  a  pouch  containing 
my  books,  a  little  dried  venison,  and  my  blanket.  I  had  then 
no  gun,  but  Tontileaugo,  who  was  a  first-rate  hunter,  carried  a 
rifle  gun,  and  every  day  killed  deer,  raccoons,  or  bears.  We 
left  the  meat,  excepting  a  little  for  present  u^,  and  carried  the 
skins  with  us  until  we  encamped,  and  then  stretched  them  wim 
elm  bark,  in  a  frame  made  with  poles  stuck  in  the  ground,  and 
tied  together  with  lynn  or  elm  bark ;  and  when  the  skins  were 
dried  by  the  fire,  we  packed  them  up  and  carried  them  with  ua 
the  next  day.  ^ 

As  Tontileaugo  could  not  speak  Englislf,  I  had  to  make  use 
of  all  the  Caughnewaga  I  had  learned,  even  to  talk  very  im- 
perfectly with  him ;  but  I  found  I  learned  to  talk  Indian  faster 
this  way  than  when  I  had  those  with  me  who  could  speak 
English. 

As  we  proceeded  down  the  Canesadooharie  waters,  our  packs 
increased  by  the  skins  that  were  daily  killed,  and  became  so 
very  heavy  that  we  could  not  march  more  than  eight  or  ten 
miles  per  day.  We  came  to  lake  Erie  about  six  miles  west  of 
the  mouth  of  Canesadooharie.  As  the  wind  was  very  high 
the  evening  we  came  to  the  lake,  I  was  surprised  to  hear  the 
roaring  of  the  water,  and  see  the  high  waves  that  dashed  against 
the  shore,  like  the  ocean.  We  encamped  on  a  run  near  the 
lake,  and  as  the  wind  fell  that  night,  the  next  morning  the  lake 
was  only  in  a  moderate  motion,  and  we  marched  on  the  sand 
along  the  side  of  the  water,  frequently  resting  ourselves,  as  we 
were  heavily  laden.  I  saw  on  the  sand  a  number  of  large  fish, 
that  had  been  left  in  flat  or  hollow  places ;  as  the  wind  fell  and 
the  waves  abated,  they  were  left  without  water,  or  only  a  small 
quantity;  and  numbers  of  bald  and  grey  eagles,  &c.,  were 
along  the  shore  devouring  them. 

Some  time  in  the  afternoon  we  came  to  a  large  camp  of 


:0 


-.-:';  M 

«'^.l 

1^.- 


■f* 


S 


102 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVirY. 


I     f  ♦ 


■«f 


Wyandots,  at  the  mouth  of  Canesadoohnrie,  where  Tontileau- 
go's  wife  was.  Here  we  were  kindly  received  ;  they  gave  us 
B  kind  of  rough,  brown  potatoes,  which  grew  spontaneously, 
and  were  culled  by  the  Cfaughnewagas  ohnenata.  These  po- 
tatoes peeled  and  dipped  in  raccoon's  fat  taste  nearly  like  our 
sweet  potatoes.  They  also  gave*  us  what  they  call  caneheanta, 
which  is  a  kind  of  nomony,  made  ,of  green  corn,  dried,  and 
beans,  mixed  togjpther. 

From  the  head  waters  of  Canesadooharie  to  this  place,  the 
land  is  generally  good ;  chiefly  first  or  second  rate,  and,  com- 
paratively, little  or  no  third  rate.  The  only  refuse  is  some 
Swamps  that  appear  to  be  too  wet  for  use,  yet  I  appreh^d  that 
number  of  them,  if  drained,  would  make  excellent  meadows. 
The  timber  is  black  oak,  walnut,  hickory,  cherry,  black  ash, 
white  ash,  water  ash,  buckeye,  black-locust,  honey-locust, 
•ugar-tree,  and  elm.  There  is  also  some  land,  though  com- 
paratively but  small,  where  the  timber  is  chiefly  white  oak,  or 
beech ;  this  may  be  called  third  rate.  In  the  bottoms,  and  also 
n^py  places  in  t]^e  upland,  there  is  a  large  quantity  of  wild 
^ple,  plum,  and  red  and  black  haw  trees.  It  appeared  to  be 
well  watered,  and  a  plenty  of  meadow  ground,  intermixed  with 
upland,  but  no  large  prairies  or  glades  that  I  saw  or  heard  of. 
In  this  route  deer,  bear,  turkeys,  and  ratcoons  appeared  plen- 
ty, but  no  buffalo,  and  very  little  sign  of  elks. 
.  We  continued  oi^  camp  at  the  mouth  of  Canesadooharie 
for  some  time,  where  we  killed  some  deer,  and  a  great  many 
raccoons  ;  the  raccoons  here  were  remarkably  large  and  fat. 
At  length  we  all  embarked  in  a  large  birch  bark  canoe.  This 
vessel  was  about  four  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  deep,  and  about 
five  and  thirty  feet  long  ;  and  though  it  could  carry  a  heavy 
burden,  it  was  so  artfully  and  curiously  constructed,  that  four 
men  could  carry  it  several  miles,  or  from  one  landing  place  to 
another,  or  from  the  waters  of  the  lake  to  the  waters  of  the 
Ohio.  We  proceeded  up  Canesadooharie  a  few  miles,  and 
went  on  shore  to  hunt ;  but  to  my  great  surprise  they  carried 
the  vessel  we  all  came  in  up  the  bank,  and  inverted  it  or  turn- 
ed the  bottom  up,  and  converted  it  to  a  dwelling-house,  and 
kindled  a  fire  before  us  to  warm  ourselves  by  and  cook.  With 
our  baggage  and  ourselves  in  this  house  we  were  very  much 
crowded,  yet  our  little  house  turned  off  the  rain  very  well. 

We  kept  moving  and  hunting  up  this  river  until  we  came 
to  the  falls  ;  here  we  remained  some  weeks,  and  killed  a  num- 
ber of  deer,  several  bears,  and  a  great  many  raccoons.  From 
the  mouth  of  this  river  to  the  falls  is  about  five  and  twenty 
miles.  On  our  passage  up  I  was  not  much  out  from  the  river, 
but  what  I  saw  was  good  land,  and  not  hilly. 


/ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


193 


leau- 
ve  us 
)usly, 
le  po- 
:e  our 
iunta, 
i,  and 

le,  the 
,  corn- 
some 
id  that 
idows. 
k  ash, 
locust, 
h  com- 
oak,  or 
nd  also 
af  wild 
id  to  be 
ed  with 
eard  of. 
id  plen- 

looharie 
many 
ind  fat. 
This 
about 
heavy 
lat  four 
^lace  to 
of  the 
les,  and 
Icarried 
Ir  turn- 
36,  and 
With 
much 

2ll. 

came 

num- 

From 

Itwenty 

river, 


About  the  falls  is  thin  chesnut  land,  which  is  almost  the 
only  chesnut  timber  I  ever  saw  in  this  country. 

While  wc  remained  here  I  left  my  pouch  with  my  books  in 
camp,  wrapt  up  in  my  blanket,  and  went  out  to  hunt  chcsnuts. 
On  my  return  to  camp  my  books  were  missing.  I  inquired 
after  them,  and  asked  the  Indians  if  they  knew  where  they 
were  ;  they  told  me  that  they  supposed  the  puppies  had  carried 
them  off.  I  did  not  believe  them,  but  thoughft  they  were  dis- 
pleased at  my  poring  over  my  books,  and  concluded  that  they 
had  destroyed  them,  or  put  them  out  of  my  way. 

After^this  I  was  again  out  after  nuts,  and  on  my  return 
beheld  a  new  erection,  composed  of  two  white  oak  saplings,' 
that  were  forked  about  twelve  feet  high,  a»>d  stood  about  fif- 
teen feet  apart.  They  had  cut  these  sapling.'  at  the  forks,  and 
laid  a  strong  pole  across,  which  appeared  in  t  \e  form  of  a  gal- 
lows, and  the  poles  they  had  shaved  very  smo  >th,  and  painted 
in  places  with  vermillion.  I  could  not  conoive  the  use  of 
this  piece  of  work,  and  at  length  concluded  it  was  a  gallows. 
I  thought  that  I  had  displeased  them  by  readfeg  my  books,  aiiA 
that  they  were  about  putting  me  to  death.  The  next  morning 
I  observed  them  bringing  their  skins  all  to  this  place,  and 
hanging  them  over  thi^  pole,  so  as  to  preserve  them  from  being 
injured  by  the  weather.  This  removed  my  fears.  They  also 
buried  their  large  canoe  in  the  ground,  wh^^h  is  the  way  they 
took  to  preserve  this  sort  of  a  canoe  in  the  winter  season. 

As  we  had  at  this  time  no  horse,  every  one  got  a  pack  on  his 
back,  and  we  steered  arv  east  course  about  twelve  miles  and 
encamped.  The  next  morning  we  proceeded  on  the  same 
course  about  ten  miles  to  a  large  creek  that  empties  into  lake 
Erie,  betwixt  Canesadooharie  and  Cayahnga.  Here  they  made 
their  winter  cabin  in  the  following  form  :  they  cut  logs  about 
fifteen  feet  long,  and  laid  these  logs  upon  each  other,  and  drove 
posts  in  the  ground  at  each  end  to  keep  them  together ;  the 
posts  they  tied  together  at  the  top  with  bark,  and  by  this  means 
raised  a  wall  fifteen  feet  long,  and  about  four  feet  high,  and  m 
the  same  manner  they  raised  another  wall  opposite  to  this,  at 
about  twelve  feet  distance ;  then  they  drove  forks  in  the  ground 
in  the  centre  of  each  end,  and  laid  a  strong  pole  from  end  to 
end  on  these  forks ;  and  from  these  walls  to  the  poles,  they 
set  up  poles  instead  of  rafters,  and  on  these  they  tied  small 
poles  in  place  of  laths ;  and  a  cover  was  made  of  lynn  bark»V 
which  will  run  even  in  the  winter  season.  ,  \: 

As  every  tree  will  not  run,  they  examine  the  tree  first,  by  '^ 
trying  it  near  the  ground,  and  when  they  find  it  will  do  they 
fell  the  tree,  and  raise  the  bark  with  the  tomahawk,  near  the 
top  of  the  tree,  about  five  or  six  inches  broad,  then  put  the- 

17 


%■' 


4 


^ 


/ 


:**'- 
"•*-< 


w 


194 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


#># 


tomahawk  handle  under  this  bark,  and  pull  it  along  down  to 
the  butt  of  the  tree ;  ao  that  sometimes  one  piece  of  bark  will 
be  thirty  feet  long.  This*bark  they  cut  at  suitable  lengths  in 
order  to  cover  the  hut. 

At  the  end  of  these  wall*  they  set  up  split  timber,  so  that 
they  had  timber  all  round,  excepting  a  door  at  each  end.  At 
the  top,  in  place  of  a  chimney,  they  left  an  open  place,  and  for 
bedding  they  laid  down  the  aforesaid  kind  of  bark,  on  which 
they  spread  bear-skins.  From  end  to  end  of  this  hut  along 
the  middle  there  were  fires,  which  the  squaws  made  of  dry 
split  wood,  and  the  holes  or  open  places  that  appeared  the 
squaws  stonped  with  moss,  which  they  collected  from  old  logs; 
and  at  the  door  they  hung  a  bear-skin  ;  and  notwithstanding 
the  winters  are  hard  here,  our  lodging  was  much  better  than 
what  I  expected. 

It  was  some  time  in  December  when  we  finished  this  win- 
ter cabin ;  but  when  we  had  got  into  this  comparatively  fine 
lodging,  another  difificulty  arose,  we  had  nothing  to  eat.  While 
^yas  travelling  jKth  Tontileaugo,  as  was  before  mentioned, 
and  had  plenty  of  fat  venison,  bear's  meat  and  raccoons,  I  then 
thought  it  was  hard  living  without  bread  or  salt ;  but  now  I 
began  to  conclude,  that  if  I  had  any  thing  that  would  banish 
pinching  hunger,  and  keep  soul  and  body  together,  I  would  be 
content.  ^ 

While  the  hunters  were  all  out,  exerting  themselves  to  the 
utmost  of  their  ability,  the  squaws  and  boys  (in  which  class  I 
was)  were  scattered  out  in  the  bottoms,  hunting  red  haws, 
black  haws  and  hickory  nuts.  As  it  was  too  late,  in  the  year, 
we  did  not  succeed  in  gathering  haws ;  but  we  had  tolerable 
success  in  scratching  up  hickory  nuts  from  under  a  light  snow, 
which  we  carried  with  us  lest  the  hunters  should  not  succeed. 
After  our  return  the  hunters  came  in,  who  had  killed  only  two 
small  turkeys,  which  were  but  little  among  eight  hunters  and 
thirteen  squaws,  boys,  and  children ;  but  they  were  divided 
with  the  greatest  equity  and  justice — every  one  got  their  equal 
share. 

The  next  day  the  hunters  turned  ou*.  again,  and  killed  one 
deer  and  three  bears. 

One  of  the  bears  was  very  large  and  remarkably  fat.  The 
hunters  carried  in  meat  sufficient  to  give  us  all  a  hearty  sup- 
per and  breakfast. 

The  squaws  and  all  that  could  carry  turned  out  to  bring  in 

meat,^-every  one  had  their  share  assigned  them,  and  my  load 

was  among  the  least ;  yet,  not  being  accustomed  to  carrying 

n  this  way,  I  got  exceeding  weary,  and  told  them  my  load 

was  too  heavy,  I  must  leave  part  of  it  and  come  for  it  again. 


C50LONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTlVlfy.  ** 


105 


wn  to 
i  will 
ths  in 

0  that 
I.  At 
nd  for 
which 

along 
of  dry 
ed  the 
i  logs; 
;anding 
jr  than 

lis  win- 
jly  fine 
While 
ntioned, 
g,  I  then 
It  now  I 

1  banish 
vould  be 

to  the 
|h  class  I 
id  haws, 
ihe  year, 
tolerable 
]ht  snow, 
succeed, 
lonly  two 
Iters  and 
divided 
lir  equal 

lilled  one 

It.  The 
irty  sup- 
bring  in 
my  load 
carrying 
my  load 
lit  again. 


They  made  a  halt  and  only  laughed  at  ihe,  and  took  part  of 
Iny  load  and  added  it  to  a  young  sqtiatr'is,  who  had  as  much 
before  as  I  carried.  *  ' 

This  kind  of  reproof  had  a  greater  tendency  to  excite  me  t6 
exert  myself  in  carrying  without  complaining  than  if  they  had 
whipped  me  for  laziness.  After  this  the  hunters  held  a  coun- 
cil,  and  concluded  that  they  must  have  horses  to  carry  their 
loads ;  and  that  they  would  go  to  war  even  in  this  inclement 
season,  in  order  to  bring  in  horses. 

Tontileaugo  wished  to  be  one  of  those  who  should  go  to  war ; 
but  the  votes  went  against  him,  as  he  was  one  of  our  best  hun- 
ters ;  it  was  thought  necessaiy  to  leave  him  at  this  winter 
camp  to  provide  for  the  squaws  and  children.  It  was  agreed 
upon  that  Tontileaugo  and  three  others  should  stay  and  hunt, 
and  the  other  four  go  to  war. 

They  then  began  to  go  through  their  common  ceremony. 
They  sung  their  war-songs,  danced  their  war-dances,  &c. 
And  when  they  were  equipped  they  went  off  singing  their 
marching  song,  and  firing  their  guns.  OuiM^amp  appeared^ 
be  rejoicing ;  but  I  was  grieved  to  think  that  some  innocent 
persons  would  he  murdered,  not  thinking  of  danger. 

After  the  departure  of  these  warriors  we  had  hard  times ; 
and  though  we  were  not  altogether  out  of  provisions,  we  were 
brought  to  short  allowance.  At  length  Tontileaugo  had  con- 
siderable success,  and  we  had  meat  brought  into  camp  suffi- 
cient to  last  ten  days.  Tontileaugo  then  took  me  with  him  in 
order  to  encamp  some  distance  from  this  wintev  cabin,  to  try 
his  luck  there.  We  cairied  no  provisions  with  us ;  he  said  he 
would  leave  what  was  there  for  the  squaws  and  children,  and 
that  we  could  shift  for  ourselves.  We  steered  about  a  south 
course  up  the  waters  of  this  creek,  and  encamped  about  ten  or 
twelve  miles  from  the  winter  cabin.  As  it  was  still  cold 
weather  and  a  crust  upon  the  snow,  which  made  a  noise  as 
we  walked,  and  alarmed  the  deer,  we  could  kill  nothing,  and 
consequently  went  to  sleep  with.'  it  supper.  The  only  chance 
we  had  under  these  circumstances  was  to  hunt  bear  holes  ;  as 
the  bears  about  Christmas  search  out  a  winter  lodging  place, 
where  they  lie  about  three  or  four  months  without  eating  or 
drinking.  This  may  appear  to  some  incredible  ;  but  it  is  well 
known  to  be  the  case  by  those  who  live  in  the  remote  west- 
ern parts  of  North  America. 

The  next  morning  early  we  proceeded  on,  and  when  we 
found  a  tree  scratched  by  the  bears  climbing  up,  and  the  hole 
in  the  tree  sufficiently  large  for  the  reception  of  the  bear,  we 
then  felled  a  sapling  or  small  tree  against  or  near  the  hole ; 
tnd  it  was  my  business  to  climb  up  and  drive  out  the  bciEtr, 


4. 


■*•< 


'»!■:. 


-JOrz:^ 


196 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


while  Tontileaugo  stood  ready  with  his  gun  and  bow.  We 
went  on  in  this  manner  until  evening,  without  success.  At 
length  we  found  a  large  elm  scratched,  and  a  hole  in  it  about 
forty  feet  up ;  but  no  tree  nigh,  suitable  to  lodge  against  the 
hole.  Tontileaugo  got  a  long  pole  and  some  dry  rotten  wood, 
which  he  tied  in  bunches,  with  bark ;  and  as  there  was  a  tree 
that  grew  near  the  elm,  and  extended  up  near  the  hole,  but 
leaned  the  wrong  way,  so  that  we  coulfJ  not  lodge  it  to  advan- 
tage, to  remedy  this  inconvenience,  he  climbed  up  this  tree  and 
carried  with  him  his  rotten  wood,  fire  and  pole.  The  rotten 
wood  he  tied  to  his  belt,  and  to  one  end  of  the  pole  he  tied  a 
hook  and  a  piece  of  rotten  wood,  which  he  set  fire  to,  as  it 
would  retain  fire  almost  like  spunk,  and  reached  this  hook 
from  limb  to  limb  as  he  went  up.  When  he  got  up  with  his 
pole  he  put  dry  wood  on  fire  into  the  hole ;  after  he  put  in 
the  fire  he  heard  the  bear  snuflf,  and  he  c^me  speedily  down, 
took  his  gun  in  his  hand,  and  waited  until  the  bear  would 
come  out;  but  it  was  some  time  before  it  appeared,  and  when 
it  did  appear  he  attempted  taking  sight  with  his  rifie  ;  but  it 
being  then  too  dark  to  see  the  sights,  he  set  it  down  by  a  tree, 
and  instantly  bent  his  bow,  took  hold  of  an  arrow,  and  shot 
the  bear  a  little  behind  the  shoulder.  I  was  preparing  also  to 
shoot  an  arrow,  but  he  called  to  me  to  stop,  there  was  no 
occasion ;  and  with  that  the  bear  fell  to  the  ground. 

Being  very  hungry,  we  kindled  a  fire,  opened  the  bear,  took 
out  the  liver,  and  wrapped  some  of  the  caul  fat  round,  and  put 
it  on  a  wooden  spit,  which  we  stuck  in  the  ground  by  the  fire 
to  roast ;  then  we  skinned  the  bear,  got  on  our  kettle,  and  had 
both  roast  and  boiled,  and  'also  sauce  to  our  meat,  which 
appeared  to  me  to  be  delicate  fare.  After  I  was  fully  satisfied 
I  went  to  sleep ;  Tontileaugo  awoke  me,  saying,  come,  eat 
h.^arty,  we  have  got  meat  plenty  now. 

The  next  morning  we  cut  down  a  lynn  tree,  peeled  bark  and 
made  a  snug  little  shelter,  facing  the  south-east,  with  a  large 
log  betw  ixt  us  and  the  north-west ;  we  made  a  good  fire  before 
us,  and  scaffolded  up  our  meat  at  one  side.  When  we  had  fin- 
ished our  camp  we  went  out  to  hunt,  searched  two  trees  for 
bears,  but  to  no  purpose.  As  the  snow  thawed  a  little  in  ihe 
afternoon,  Tontileaugo  killed  a  deer,  which  we  carried  with  us 
to  camp. 

The  next  day  we  turned  out  to  hunt,  and  near  the  camp  we 
found  a  tree  well  scratched ;  but  the  hole  was  above  forty  feet 
high,  and  no  tree  that  we  could  lodge  against  the  hole ;  but 
finding  that  it  was  very  hollow,  we  concluded  that  we  could 
cut  down  the  tree  with  our  tomahawks,  which  kept  us  work- 
ing a  considerable  part  of  the  day.    When  the  tree  fell  we 


\ 


\ 


CO      NEL  SMITH'S   CAPTIVITY. 


l§t 


We 
At 

bout 
L  the 
ood, 
tree 
,  but 
Ivan- 
i  and 
:olten 
Lied  a 
as  it 
hook 
th  his 
)Ut  in 
down, 
would 
L  when 
but  it 
a  tree, 
ad  shot 
also  to 
was  no 


ar 


,took 
aind  put 
the  fire 
md  had 

which 
atisfied 
ime,  eat 

ark  and 

a  large 

e  before 

had  fin- 

Lrees  for 

in  ihe 

with  us 

Jamp  we 
arty  feet 
ole;  but 
e  could 
Ls  work- 
fell  we 


ran  up,  Tontileaugo  with  his  gun  and  bow,  and  I  with  my  bow 
ready  bent.  Tontileaugo  shot  the  bear  thrdugh  with  his  rifle, 
a  little  behind  the  shoulders  ;  I  also  shot,  but  too  far  back ;  and 
not  being  then  much  accustomed  to  the  business,  ihy  arrow 
penetrated  only  a  few  inches  through  the  skin.  Having  killed 
an  old  she  bear  and  three  cubs,  we  hauled  her  on  the  snow  to 
the  camp,  and  only  had  time  afterwards  to  ge*  wood,  make  a 
fire,  cook,  &c.,  before  dark. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  went  to  business,  searched  seve- 
ral trees,  but  found  no  bears.  On  our  way  home*  we  took 
three  raccoons  out  of  a  hollow  elm,  not  far  from  the  ground. 

We  remained  here  about  two  weeks,  and  in  this  time  killed 
four  bears,  three  deer,  several  turkeys  and  a  number  of  rac- 
coons. We  packed  up  as  much  meat  as  we  could  carry,  and 
returned  to  our  winter  cabin.  On  our  arrival  there  was  great 
joy,  as  they  were  all  in  a  starving  condition,  the  three  hunt- 
ers that  we  had  left  having  killed  b«ft  very  little.  All  that 
could  carry  a  pack,  repaired  to  our  camp  to  bring  in  meat. 

Some  time  in  February  the  four  warriors^^eturned,  who  had 
taken  two  scalps  and  six  horses  from  the  frontiers  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. The  hunters  could  then  scatter  out  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  winter  cabin  and  encamp,  kill  meat,  and  bring 
it  in  upon  horses  ;  so  that  we  commonly  after  this  had  plenty 
of  provision. 

in  this  month  we  began  to  make  sugar.  As  some  of  the 
elm  bark  will  strip  at  this  season,  the  squaws,  after  finding  il 
tree  that  would  do,  cut  it  down,  and  with  a  crooked  stick,  bioad 
and  sharp  at  the  end,  took  the  bark  off  the  tree,  and  of  this 
bark  made  vessels  in  a  curious  manner,  that  would  hold  about 
two  gallons  each :  they  made  above  one  hundred  of  these  kind 
of  vessels.  In  the  sugar  tree  they  cut  a  notch,  sloping  down, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  notch  stuck  in  a  tomahawk ;  in  the  place 
where  they  stuck  the  tomahawk  they  drove  a  long  chip,  in 
order  to  carry  the  water  out  from  the  tree,  and  under  this  they 
set  their  vessel  to  receive  it.  As  sugar  trees  were  plenty  ar.d 
large  here,  they  seldom  or  never  notched  a  tree  that  was  not 
two  or  three  feet  over.  They  also  made  bark  vessels  for  car- 
rying the  water,  that  would  hold  about  four  gallons  each. 
They  had  two  brass  kettles,  that  held  about  fifteen  gallons 
each,  and  other  smaller  kettles  in  which  they  boiled  the  water. 
But  as  they  could  not  at  times  boil  away  the  water  as  fast  as 
it  was  collected,  they  made  vessels  of  bark,  that  would  hold 
about  one  hundred  gallons  each,  for  retaining  the  water ;  and 
though  the  sugar  trees  did  not  run  every  day,  they  had  alwayrf 
a  sufficient  quantity  of  water  to  keep  them  boiling  during  thi^ 
whole  sugar  season.  -  y  '^>- 

17* 


'  d 


"#'■ 


•# 


:-,.,.v^, 


<■!';■'■- 


198 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


»*■ 


i    %.-• 


T.^ 


^^m 


% 


The  way  we  commonly  used  our  sugar  while  encamped  was 
by  putting  it  in  Ifeafs  fat  until  the  fat  was  almost  as  sweet  at 
the  sugar  itself,  and  in  this  we  dipped  our  roasted  venison. 
About  tlffi  time  some  of  the  Indian  lads  and  myself  were  em- 
ployed in  making  and  attending  traps  for  catching  raccoons, 
foxes,  \vildcats,  &c. 

As  the  raccoon  is  a  kind  of  water  animal,  that  frequents  the 
runs,  or  small  water  courses,  almost  the  whole  night,  we  made 
our  traps  on  the  runs,  by  laying  one  small  sapling  on  another, 
and  driving  in  posts  to  keep  them  from  rolling.  The  under 
sapling  we  raised  about  eighteen  inches,  and  set  so  that  on 
the  raccoon's  touching  a  string,  or  a  small  piece  of  bark,  the 
sapling  would  fall  and  kill  it ;  and  lest  the  raccoon  should  pass 
by,  we  laid  brush  on  both  sides  of  the  run,  only  leaving  the 
channel  open.      *  i 

The  fox  traps  we  made  nearly  in  the  same  manner,  at  the 
end  of  a  hollow  log,  or  opposite  to  a  hole  at  the  root  of  a  hol- 
low tree,  and  put  venison  on  a  stick  for  bait ;  we  had  it  so  set 
that  when  the  fox, took  hold  of  the  meat  the  trap  fell.  While 
the  squaws  were  employed  in  making  sugar,  the  boys  and  men 
were  engaged  in  hunting  and  trapping. 

About  the  latter  end  of  March,  we  began  to  prepare  for 
moving  into  town,  in  order  to  plant  corn.  The  squaws  were 
then  frying  the  last  of  their  bear's  fat,  and  making  vessels  to 
hold  it :  the  vessels  were  made  of  deer-skins,  which  were 
skinned  by  pulling  the  skin  off  the  neck,  without  ripping. 
After  they  had  taken  off  the  hair,  they  gathered  it  in  small 
plaits  round  the  neck  and  with  a  string  drew  it  together  like  a 
purse ;  in  the  centre  a  pin  was  put,  below  which  they  tied  a 
string,  and  while  it  was  wet  they  blew  it  up  like  a  bladder, 
and  let  it  remain  in  this  manner  until  it  was  dry,  when  it  ap- 
T)eared  nearly  in  the  shape  of  a  sugar  loaf,  but  more  rounding 
at  the  lower  end.  One  of  these  vessels  would  hold  about  four 
or  five  gallons.  In  these  vessels  it  was  they  carried  their  bear's 
oil. 

When  all  things  were  ready,  we  moved  back  to  the  falls  of 
Canesadooharie.  In  this  route  the  land  is  chiefly  first  and 
second  rate ;  but  too  much  meadow  ground,  in  proportion  to 
the  upland.  The  timber  is  white  ash,  elm,  black  oak,  cherry, 
buckeye,  sugar  tree,  lynn,  mulberry,  beech,  white  oak,  hick- 
ory, wild  apple  tree,  red  haw,  black  haw,  and  spicewood  bushes. 
There  is  in  some  places  spots  of  beech  timber,  which  spots 
may  be  called  third  rate  land.  Buckeye,  sugar  tree  and  spice- 
wood are  common  in  the  woods  here.  There  is  in  some 
places  large  swamps  too  wet  for  any  use. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  falls,  (as  we  had  brought  with  us  on 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


1^9 


was 
et  a# 
lison. 
3  em- 
;oons, 

ts  the 
made 
lother, 
under 
lat  on 
fk,  the 
Id  pass 
ng  the 

at  the 

I  a  hol- 

so  set 

While 

nd  men 


are 


for 
rs  were 
issels  to 
h  were 
ripping, 
small 
like  a 
tied  a 
bladder, 
n  it  ap- 
aunding 
out  four 
ir  bear's 

falls  of 
irst  and 
»rtion  to 
cherry, 
k,  hick- 
bushes. 
:h  spots 
d  spice- 
in  some 

th  us  on 


horseback  about  two  hundred  weight  of  sugar,  a  large  quan- 
^ty  of  bear's  oil,  skins,  &;c.,)  the  canoe  we  ^had  buried  was 
not  sufficient  to  carry  all ;  therefore  we  were  obliged  to  make 
another  one  of  elm  bark.  While  we  lay  here,  a  yoipbg  Wy- 
andot found  my  books.  On  this  they  collected  together  ;  I  was 
a  little  way  from  the  camp,  and  saw  the  collection,  but  did  not 
know  what  it  meant.  They  called  me  by  my  Indian  name, 
which  was  Scoouwa,  repeatedly.  I  ran  to  see  what  was  the 
matter  ;  they  showed  me  my  books,  and  said  they  were  glad 
they  had  been  found,  for  they  knew  I  was  grieved  at  the  loss 
of  them,  and  that  they  now  rejoiced  with  me  because  they 
were  found.  As  I  could  then  speak  some  Indian,  especially 
Caughnewaga,  (for  both  that  and  the  Wyandot  tongue  were 
spoken  in  this  camp,)  I  told  them  that  I  thanked  them  for  the 
kindness  they  had  always  shown  to  me,  and*  also  for  finding 
my  books.  They  asked  if  the  books  were  damaged.  I  tola 
them  not  much.  They  then  showed  how  they  lay,  which  was 
in  the  best  manner  to  turn  off  the  water. '  In  a  deer-skin  pouch 
they  lay  all  winter.  The  print  was  not  much  injured,  though 
the  binding  was.  This  was  the  first  time  tirat  I  felt  my  heart 
warm  towards  the  Indians.  Though  they  had  been  exceed- 
ingly kind  to  me,  I  still  before  detested  them,  on  account  of 
the  barbarity  I  beheld  after  Braddock's  defeat.  Neither  had  I 
ever  before  pretended  kindness,  or  expressed  myself  in  a 
friendly  manner ;  but  I  began  now  to  excuse  the  Indians  on 
account  of  their  want  of  information. 

When  we  were  ready  to  embark,  Tontileaugo  would  not  go 
to  town,  but  go  up  the  river,  and  take  a  hunt.  He  asked  me 
if  I  choosed  to  go  with  him.  I  told  him  I  did.  We  then  got 
some  sugar,  bear's  oil  bottled  up  in  a  bear's  gut,  and  some  dry 
venison,  Avhich  we  packed  up,  and  went  up  Canesadooharie, 
about  thirty  miles,  and  encamped.  At  this  time  I  did  not 
know  either  the  day  of  the  week  or  the  month ;  but  I  sup- 
posed it  to  be  about  the  first  of  April.  We  had  considerable 
success  in  our  business.  We  also  found  some  stray  horses,  or 
a  horse,  mare,  and  a  young  colt ;  and  though  they  had  run  in 
the  woods  all  winter,  they  were  in  exceeding  good  order. 
There  is  plenty  of  grass  here  all  winter,  under  the  snow,  and 
horses  accustomed  to  the  woods  can  work  it  out.  These  horses 
had  run  in  the  woods  until  they  were  very  wild. 

Tontileaugo  one  night  concluded  that  we  must  run  them 
down.  I  told  him  I  thought  we  could  not  accomplish  it.  He 
said  he  had  run  down  bears,  buffaloes,  and  elks ;  and  in  the 
great  plains,  with  only  a  small  snow  on  the  ground,  he  had  run 
down  a  deer ;  and  he  thought  that  in  one  whole  day  he  could 
tire  or  mn  down  any  four-footed  animal  except  a  wolf.     I  told 


800 


COLOI^L  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


^. 


■■t" 


him  that  though  a  deer  was  the  swiftest  animal  to  run  a  short 
distance,  yet  it  WOttld  tire  sooner  than  a  horse.  He  said  he 
would  ^jA\  events  try  the  ^periment.  He  had  heard  the 
"WyanOTB  say  that  I  could  run  well,  and  now  he  would  see 
whether  I  could  or  not.  I  told  him  that  I  never  had  run  all 
day,  and  of  course  was  not  accustomed  to  that  way  of  running. 
I  never  had  run  with  the  Wyandots  more  than  seven  or  eight 
miles  at  one  time.  He  said  that  was  nothing,  we  must  either 
catch  these  horses  or  run  all  day. 

In  the  morning  early  we  left  camp,  and  about  sunrise  we 
started  after  them,  stripped  naked  excepting  breech-clouts  and 
moccasins.  About  ten  o'clock  I  lost  sight  of  both  ^ontileaugo 
and  the  horses,  and  did  not  see  them  again  until  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  As  the  horses  run  all  day  in  about 
three^ribur  miles  square,  at  length  they  passed  where  I  was, 
andllf^l  in  close  after  them.  As  I  then  had  a  long  rest,  I 
endeavored  to  keep  ahead  of  Tontileaugo,  and  after  some  time 
I  could  hnar  him  after  me  calling  chdkoh,  chakoanaugh,  which 
signifies,  pull  away  or  do  your  best.  We  pursued  on,  and  after 
some  time  Tontileaugo  passed  me,  and  about  an  hour  before 
sundown  we  despaired  of  catching  these  horses,  and  returned 
to  camp,  where  we  had  left  our  clothes. 

I  reminded  Tontileaugo  of  what  I  had  told  him ;  he  replied 
he  did  not  know  what  horses  could  do.  They  are  wonderful 
strong  to  run ;  but  withal  we  made  them  very  tired.  Tonti- 
leaugo then  concluded  he  would  do  as  the  Indians  did  with 
wild  horses  when  out  at  war :  which  is  to  shoot  thein  through 
the  neck  under  the  mane,  and  above  the  bone,  which  will 
cause  them  to  fall  and  lie  until  they  can  halter  them,  and  then 
they  recover  again.  This  he  attempted  to  do;  but  as  the 
mar^  was  very  wild,  he  could  not  get  sufficiently  nigh  to  shoot 
her  in  the  proper  place ;  however,  he  shot,  the  ball  passed  too 
low,  and  killed  her.  As  the  horse  and  colt  stayed  at  this 
place,  we  caught  the  horse,  and  took  him  and  the  colt  with  us 
^camp. 

We  stayed  at  this  camp  about  two  weeks,  and  killed  a  num- 
her-rof  bears,  raccoons,  and  some  beavers.  We  made  a  canoe 
of  elm  bark,  and  Tontileaugo  embarked  in  it.  He  arrived  at 
the  falls  that  night ;  whilst  I,  mounted  on  horseback,  with  a 
bear-akin  saddle  and  bark  stirrups,  proceeded  by  land  to  the 
falls.  I  came  there  the  next  morning,  and  we  carried  our 
canoe  and  loading  past  the  falls. 

The  river  is  very  rapid  for  some  distance  above  the  falls, 
which  are  about  twelve  or  fifteen  feet,  nearly  perpendicular. 
This  river,  called  Canesadooharie,  interlocks  with  the  West 
Branch  of  Muskingum,  runs  nearly  a  north  course,  and  emp!- 


:.'•* 


'l^r. 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


201 


dhe 
I  the 
I  see 
in  all 
ning. 
eignt 
sither 

se  ■we 
ts  and 
eaugo 
;  three 

about 
I  was, 

rest,  I 
ke  time 

which 
id  after 
r  before 
eturned 

replied 
mderful 
Tonti- 
id  with 
through 
ich  will 
[nd  then 
as  the 
;o  shoot 
!sed  too 
at  this 
with  us 

a  niim- 

I  a  canoe 

trived  at 

J,  with  a 

to  the 

tied  our 

le  falls, 
tdicular. 
^e  West 

idemp!- 


ties  into  the  south  side  of  lake  Erie,  about  eight  miles  east 
from  Sandusky,  or  betwixt  Sandusky  and  Cayahaga. 

On  this  last  route  the  land  is  nearly  the  same  ajyhat  last 
described,  only  there  is  not  so  much  swampy  or  wet^ound. 

We  again  proceeded  towards  the  lake,  I  on  horseback,  and 
Tontileaugo  by  water.  Here  the  land  is  generally  good,  but 
I  found  some  difficulty  in  getting  round  swamps  and  ponds. 
When  we  came  to  the  lake,  I  proceeded  along  the  strand,  and 
Tontileaugo  near  the  shore,  sometimes  paddling,  and  some- 
times poleing  his  canoe  along. 

After  some  time  the  wind  arose,  and  he  went  into  the  mouth 
of  a  small  t;reek  and  encamped.  Haiie  we  staid  several  days 
on  account  of  high  wind,  which  raise^  the  lak6  i|^  jgt^i^^- 
lows.  While  we  were  here,  Tontileaugo  went  oiit  t6  Hunt, 
and  when  he  was  gone  a  Wyandot  came  to  our  camp ;  I  gavie 
him  a  shoulder  of  venison  which  I  had  by  the  fire  well  foasted, 
and  he  received  it  gladly,  told  me  he  was  hungry,  and  thanked 
me  for  my  kindness.  When  Tontileaugo  came  hornet  I  told 
him  that  a  Wyandot  had  been  at  camp,  and  that  I  gave  him  a 
shoulder  of  roasted  venison ;  he  said  that  was  very  well,  and 
I  suppose  you  gave  him  also  sugar  and  bear's  oil  to  eat  with 
his  venison.  I  told  him  I  did  not ;  as  the  sugar  and  bear's  oil 
was  down  in  the  canoe  I  did  not  go  for  it.  He  replied,  you 
have  behaved  just  like  a  Dutchman.*'  Do  you  not  know  that 
when  strangers  come  to  our  camp  we  ought  always  to  give 
them  the  best  that  we  have  ?  I  acknowledged  that  I  was  wrong. 
He  said  that  ho  could  excuse  this,  as  I  was  but  young ;  but  I 
must  learn  to  behave  like  a  warrior,  and  do  great  things,  and 
never  be  found  in  any  such  little  actions. 

The  lake  being  again  calm,t  we  proceeded,  and  arrived  safe 
at  Sunyendeand,  which  was  a  Wyandot  town  that  lay  upon  a 
small  creek  which  empties  into  the  little  lake  below  the  mouth 
of  Sandusky. 

The  town  was  about  eighty  rood  above  the  mouth  of  the 
creek,  on  the  south  side  of  a  large  plain,  on  which  tlmbef 
grew,  and  nothing  more  but  grass  or  nettles.  In  some  places 
there  were  large  flats  where  nothing  but  grass  grew,  alKbut 
three  feet  high  when  grown,  and  in  other  place?  nothing  but 
nettles,  very  rank,  where  the  soil  is  extremely  rich  and  loose ; 
here  they  planted  corn.  In  this  town  there  were  also  Fifench 
traders,  who  purchased  our  skins  and  fur,  and  we  all  got  new 
clothes,  paint,  tobacco,  &c.  .  ;^'  . 

*  The  Dutch  he  called  Skoharehaugo,  which  look  its  derivation  from  a 
Dutch  settlement  called  Skoharey. 

t  The  lake,  when  calm,  appears  to  be  of  a  sky-blue  color ;  though  when 
lifted  in  a  vessel  it  is  like  other  clear  water. 


*<*'«i.. 


X 


T-T-^ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


A,;1A 


'  After  I  had  got  my  new  clothes,  and  my  head  done  off  like 
a  red-headed  woodifecker,  I,  in  company  with  a  number  of 
young  iMiiani^  went  down  to  the  corn-field  to  see  the  squaws 
at  wor^^  When  we  came  there  they  asked  me  to  take  a  hoe, 
which  I  did,  and  hoed  for  some  time.  The  squaws  applauded 
me  as  a  good  hand  at  the  business ;  but  when  I  returned  to 
the  town  the  old  men,  hearing  of  what  I  had  done,  chid  me,  and 
said  that  I  was  adopted  in  the  place  of  a  great  man,  and  must 
not  hoe  corn  like  a  squaw.  They  never  had  occasion  to 
reprove  me  for  any  thing  like  this  again ;  as  I  never  was 
extremely  fond  of  work,  I  readily  complied  with  their  orders. 

As  the  Indians  on  tlpir  return  from  their  winter  hunt  bring 
in  with  them  large  quantities  of  bear's  oil,  sugar,  dried  veni- 
son, &OM.at  this  time  they  have  plenty,  and  do  not  spare  eating 
or  giving;  thus  they  make  way  with  their  provision  as  quick 
as  possible.  They  have  no  such  thing  as  regular  meals, 
breakfast,  dinner,  or  supper ;  but  if  any  one,  even  the  town 
folks,  would  go  to  the  same  house  several  times  in  one  day, 
he  would  be  invited  to  eat  of  the  best ;  and  with  them  it  is  bad 
manners  to  refuse  to  eat  when  it  is  offered.  If  they  will  not 
eat  it  is  interpreted  as  a  symptom  of  displeasure,  or  that  the 
persons  refusmg  to  eat  were  angry  with  those  who  invited 
them. 

At  this  time  homony,  plentifully  mixed  with  bear's  oil  and 
sugar,  or  dried  venison,  bear's  oil,  and  sugar,  is  what  they  offer 
to  every  one  who  cornes  in  any  time  of  the  day ;  and  so  they 
go  on  until  their  sugar,  bear's  oil,  and  venison  are  all  gone, 
and  then  they  have  to  eat  homony  by  itself,  without  bread, 
salt,  or  any  thing  else  j  yet  still  they  invite  every  one  that 
c(M|'6s  in  to  eat  whilst  they  have  any  thing  to  give.  L  is 
thought  a  shame  not  to  invite  people  to  eat  while  they  have 
any  thing;  but  if  they  can  in  truth  only  say  we  have  got 
not^bJog  to  eat,  this  is  accepted  as  an  honorable  apology.  All 
thl^  hunters  and  warriors  continued  in  town  about  six  weeks 
aftei  we  came  in ;  they  spent  this  time  in  painting,  going  from 
Imusis  to  house,  eating,  smoking,  and  playing  at  a  game  resem- 
bllH^  dice,  or  hustle-cap.  They  put  a  number  of  plum-stones 
in  V small  bowl ;  one  side  of  each  stone  is  black,  and  the  other 
white;  they  then  shake  or  hustle  the  bowl,  calling,  hits,  hits, 
hits,^onesey,  honesey,  rago,rago;  which  signifies  calling  for 
white  or  black,  or  what  they  wish  to  turn  up;  they  then  turn 
the  bowl,  and  count  the  whites  and  blacks.  Some  were  beat- 
ing their  kind  of  drum  and  singing ;  others  were  employed  in 
playing  on  a  sort  of  flute  made  of  hollow  cane ;  and  others 
playing  on  the  jew's-harp.  Some  part  of  this  time  was  also 
aken  up  in  attending  the  council  house,  where  the  chiefs,  and 


%iSi.-iB.*t:'.. 


)^' 


riike 
ler  of 
j[ua\vs 
a  hoe, 
auded 
ned  to 
le,  and 
i  must 
lion  to 
iT  was 
rders. 
t  bring 
d  veni- 

eating 
s  quick 

meals, 
le  town 
me  day, 
it  is  bad 
will  not 
that  the 

invited 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTmXY. 


soa 


aa  many  others  as  chose,  attended ;  and  at  night  they  were 
frequendy  employed  in  singing  and  dancing.     Towards  the 
last  of  this  time,  which  was  in  June,  170B,  they  were  all  en-  / 1 
gaged  in  preparing  to  go  to  war  against  the  frontieril.of  Vir-^ 
ginia.     When  they  were  equipped,  they  went  through  their 
ceremonies,  sung  their  war-songs,  &c.    They  all  marched  off, 
from  fifteen  to  sixty  years  of  age ;  and  some  boys,  only  twelve 
years  old,  were  equipped  with  their  bows  and  arrows,  and 
went  to  war;  so  that  none  were  left  in  town  but  squaws  and   'i^f 
children,  except  myself,  one  very  old  man,  and  another,  about 
fifty  years  of  age,  who  was  lame. 

The  Indians  were  then  in  great  hoj^s  that  they  would  drive 
all  the  Virginians  over  the  lake,  whicn  is  all  the  name  they 


know  for  the  sea.     They  had  some  ^ause  for  this  hope,  be- 
cause, at  this   time,   the   Americans  were   altogether  ui2ac« 
quainted  with  war  of  any  kind,  and  consequently  very  unfit  to 
stand  their  hand  with  such  subtle  enemies  as  the  Indians  were. 
The  two  old  Indians  asked  me  if  I  did  not  think  that  the 
Indians  and  French  would  subdue  all  America,  except  New. 
England,  which  they  said  they  had  tried  in  old  times.    I  told 
them  I  thought  not.     They  said  they  had  already  drove  them 
all  out  of  the  mountains,  and  had  chiefly  laid  waste  the  great 
valley  betwixt  the  North  and  South  mountain,  from  Potomac 
to  James  river,  which  is  a  considerable  part  of  the  best  land 
in  Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania,  and  that  the  white  ' 
people  appeared  to  them  like  fools  ;  they  could  neither  guard 
against  surprise,  run,  nor  fight.     These,  they  said,  were  their 
reasons  for  saying  that  they  would  subdue  the  whites.     Theyr 
asked  me  to  offer  my  reasons  for  my  opinion,  and  told  me  tOr' 
speak  my  mind  freely.     I  told  them  that  the  white  peoplA.«to, 
the  east  were  very  numerous,  like  the  trees,  and  though  they 
appeared  to  them  to  be  fools,  as  they  were  not  acquainted  wim 
their  way  of  war,  yet  they  were  not  fools ;  therefore,  after-fiiome ' 
time,  they  will  learn  your  mode  of  war,  and  turn  upon  yeif,  or 
at  least  defend  themselves.     I  found  that  the  old  men  them^-;-. 
selves  did  not  believe  they  could  conquer  America,  yet  tibua^ 
were  willing  to  propagate  the  idea  in  order  to  encourag^jj^e 
young  men  to  go  to  war.  • 

When  the  warriors  left  this  town,  we  had  neither  meat, 
sugar,  or  bear's  oil  left.  All  that  we  had  then  to  live  on  was 
corn  pounded  into  coarse  meal  or  small  homony ;  this  they 
boiled  in  water,  which  appeared  like  well  thickened  soup, 
without  salt  or  any  thing  else.  For  some  time  we  had  plenty 
of  this  kind  of  homony ;  at  length  we  were  brought  to  very 
short  allowance,  and  as  the  warriors  did  not  return  as  soon  as 
they  expected,  we  were  in  a  starving  condition,  and  but  one 


ii 
1 


V^  i 


A 


tf 


M 


204 


COLONEL   SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


m 


#* 


ii 


ffun  in  the  town,  and  very  little  ammunition.  The  old  lamn 
Wyandot  concluded  J^at  he  would  go  a  hunting  in  a  canoe, 
and  take  me  with  him,  and  try  to  kill  deer  in  the  water,  as  it 
was  theif  watering  time.  We  went  up  Sandusky  a  few  miles, 
then  turned  up  a  creek  and  encamped.  We  had  lights  pre- 
pared, as  we  were  to  hunt  in  the  night,  and  also  a  piece  of 
bark  and  some  bushes  set  up  in  the  canoe,  in  order  to  conceal 
ourselves  from  the  deer.  A  little  boy  that  was  with  us  held 
the  light ;  I  worked  the  canoe,  and  the  old  man,  who  had  his 
gun  loaded  with  large  shot,  when  we  came  near  the  deer,  fired, 
and  in  this  manner  killed  three  deer  in  part  of  one  night.  We 
went  to  our  fire,  ate  heartily,  and  in  the  morning  returned  to 
town  in  order  to  relieve  the  hungry  and  distressed. 

When  we  came  to  town  the  children  were  crying  bitterly  on 
account  of  pinching  hunger.  We  delivered  what  we  had  taken, 
and  though  it  was  but  little  among  so  many,  it  was  divided 
according  to  the  strictest  rules  of  justice.  We  immediately  set 
out  for  another  hunt,  but  before  we  returned  a  part  of  the  war- 
riors had  come  in,  and  brought  with  them  on  horseback  a 
quantity  of  meat.     These  warriors  had  divided  into  different 

Parties,  and  all  struck. at  different  places  in  Augusta  county, 
'hey  orought  in  with  them  a  considerable  number  of  scalps, 
prisoners,  horses,  anJ  other  plunder.  One  of  the  parties 
Drought  in  with  them  one  Arthur  Campbell,  that  is  now  Colo- 
nel Campbell,  who  lives  on  Holston  river,  near  the  Royal 
Oak.  As  the  Wyandots  at  Sunyendeand  and  those  at  De- 
troit were  connected,  Mr.  Campbell  was  taken  to  Detroit; 
but  he  remained  some  time  with  me  in  this  town.  His  com- 
p«iny  was  very  agreeable,  and  I  was  sorry  when  he  left  me. 
During  his  stay  at  Sunyendeand  he  borrowed  my  Bible,  and 
made  some   pertinent  remarks  on  what  he  had  read.     One 

gassage  was  where  it  is  said,  "  It  is  good  for  man  that  he 
ear  the  yoke  in  his  youth."     He  said  we  ought  to  be  re- 
•^  signed  to  the  will  of  Providence,  as  we  were  now  beayng 
the  yoke  in  our  youth.     Mr.  Campbell  appeared  to  be  then 
alteut  sixteen  or  seventeen,  years  of  age. 

jtt^ere  was   a  number   of  prisoners  brought   in  by  these 

,  parties,  and  when  they  were  to  run  the  gauntlet  I  went  and 

told  them  how  they  were  to  act.     One  John  Savage  was 

'   brought  in,  a  middle-aged  man,  or  about  forty  years  old.     He 

♦  was  t6  run  the  gauntlet.     I  told  him  what  he  had  to  do ;  and 

after  this  J  fell  into  one  of  the  ranks  with  the  Indians,  shouting 

\    and  yelling  like  them ;  and  as  they  were  not  very  severe  on 

{  "him,  as  he  passed  me,  I  hit  him  with  a  piece  of  pumpkin, 

which  pleased  the  Indians  much,  but  hurt  my  feelings. 

About  the  time  that  these  warriors  came  m,  the  green  com 


in 


ii^;.  1-. 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


206 


1^  !;' 


was  beginning  to  be  of  use,  so  that  we  had  either  green  corn 
or  venison,  and  sometimes  both,  which  #iras,  comparatively, 
high  living.  When  we  could  have  plenty  of  greenhorn,  or 
roasting  ears,  the  hunters  became  lazy*  and  spent  th^ir  time, 
as  already  mentioned,  in  singing  and  dancing,  &c.  They  ap- 
peared to  be  fulfilling  the  scriptures  beyond  those  who  profess 
to  believe  them,  in  that  of  taking  no  thought  of  to-morrow ; 
and  also  in  living  in  love,  peace,  and  friendship  together, 
without  disputes.  In  this  respect  they  shame  those  who  pro- 
fess Christianity. 

In  this  manner  we  lived  until  October;  then  the  geese, 
swans,  ducks,  cranes,  &c.,  came  from  ^e  north,  and  alighted 
on  this  little  lake,  without  number,  or  innumerable.  Sunyen- 
deand  is  a  remarkable  place  for  fish  in  the  spring,  and  fowl 
both  in  the  fall  and  spring. 

As  our  hunters  were  now  tired  with  indolence,  and  fond  of 
their  own  kind  of  exercise,  they  all  turned  out  to  fowling,  and 
in  this  could  scarce  miss  of  success ;  so  that  we  had  now 
plenty  of  homony  and  the  best  of  fowls ;  and  sometimes,  as  a 
rarity,  we  had  a  little  bread,  which  was  made  of  Indian  corn 
meal,  pounded  in  a  homony  block,  mixed  with  boiled  beans, 
and  baked  in  cakes  under  the  ashes. 

This  with  us  was  called  good  living,  though  not  equal  to  our 
fat,  roasted,  and  boiled  venison,  when  we  went  to  the  woods 
in  the  fall ;  or  bear's  meat  and  beaver  in  the  winter ;  or  sugar, 
bear's  oil,  and  dry  venison  in  the  spring. 

Some  time  in  October,  another  adopted  brother,  older  than 
Tontileaugo,  came  to  pay  us  a  visit  at  Sunyendeand,  and  he 
asked  me  to  take  a  hunt  with  him  on  Cayahaga.  As  they 
always  used  me  as  a  free  man,  and  gave  me  the  liberty  of 
choosing,  I  told  him  that  I  was  attached  to  Tontileaugo,  had 
never  seen  him  before,  and  therefore  asked  some  time  to  con- 
sider of  this.  He  told  me  that  the  party  he  was  going  with 
would  not  be  along,  or  at  the  mouth  of  this  little  lake,  in  less 
than  six  days,  and  I  could  in  this  time  be  acquainted  with 
him,  and  judge  for  myself.  I  consulted  with  Tontileaugo  ot 
this  occasion,  and  he  told  me  that  our  old  brother  Tecail|b- 
retanego  (which  was  his  name)  was  a  chief,  and  a  better  man 
than  he  was,  and  if  I  went  with  him  I  might  expect  to  be 
well  used ;  but  he  said  I  might  do  as  I  pleased,  and  if  I^staid 
he  would  use  me  as  he  had  done.  I  told  him  that  he  had  ^ 
acted  in  every  respect  as  a  brother  to  me ;  yet  I  v^s  much 
pleased  with  my  old  brother's  conduct  and  conversation ;  and  ^  4(| 
as  he  was  going  to  a  part  of  the  country  I  had  never  been.  ^'^ 
in,  I  wished  to  go  with  him.  He  said  that  he  was  perfectly 
willing.  * 

18  V 


«i 


^^ 


4 


k 


i**-'-' 


N 


206 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


"fs. 


■■?>*., 


I  then  went  with  Tecaughretanego  to  the  mouth  of  the 
little  lake,  whore  helmet  with  the  company  he  intended  going 
with,  which  was  composed  of  Caughnewagas  and  Ottawas. 
Here  I  was  introduced  to  a  Caughnewaga  sister,  and  others 
I  had  never  before  seen.     My  sister's  name  was  Mary,  which 
they  pronounced  Maully.     I  asked  Tecaughretanego  how  it 
^  came  that  she  had  an  English  name.    Ho  said  that  he  did  not 
know  that  it  was  an  English  name ;  but  it  was  the  name  the 
priest  gave  her  when  she  was  baptized,  which  he  said  was 
.  the  name  of  the  mother  of  Jesus.     He  said  there  were  a  great 
many  of  the  Caughnewagas  and  Wyandots  that  were  a  kind 
of  half  Roman  Catholics';  but  as  for  hiniself,  he  said,  that 
the  priest  and  him  could  not  agree,  as  they  held  notions  that 
contradicted  both  sense  and  reason,  and  had  the  assuiunce  to 
tell  him  that  the  book  of  God  taught  them  these  foolish  ab- 
surdities :  but  he  could  not  believe  the  great  and  good  Spirit 
ever  taught  them  any  such  nonsense ;  and  therefore  he  con- 
cluded that  the  Indians'  old  religion  was  better  than  thib  new 
way  of  worshipping  Qodi. 

The  Ottawas  have  a  very  useful  kind  of  tents  which  they 
carry  with  them,  made  of  nags,  plaited  and  stitched  together 
in  a  very  artful  manner,  so  as  to  turn  rain  or  wind  well— each 
mat  is  made  fifteen  feet  long,  and  about  five  feet  br9ad.  In 
order  to  erect  this  kind  of  tent,  they  cut  a  number  of  long 
straight  poles,  which  they  drive  in  the  ground,  in  form  of  a 
circle,  leaning  inwards ;  then  they  spread  the  mat^  on  these 
poles,  beginning  at  the  bottom  and  extending  up,  leaving 
only  a  hole  in  the  top  uncovered,  and  this  hole  answers  the 
place  of  a  chimney.  They  make  a  fire  of  dry  split  wood  in 
the  middle,  and  spread  down  burk  mats  and  skins  for  bedding, 
on  which  they  sleep  in  a  crooked  posture  all  round  the  fire, 
as  the  length  of  their  beds  will  not  admit  of  stretching  them- 
selves. In  place  of  a  door  they  lift  up  one  end  of  a  mat  and 
creep  in,  and  let  the  mat  fall  down  behind  them. 
\^Tnese  tents  are  warm  and  dry,  and  tolerably  cleir  of  smoke. 
TOeir  lumber  they  keep  under  birch-bark  canoes,  wliicii  they 
cflly  out  and  turn  up  for  a  shelter,  where  '  y  .ot^iyvery 
thmg  from  the  rain.  Nothing  is  in  the  tents  but  themselves 
and  iheir  bedding. 

TJ^  3  company  had  four  birch  canoes  and  four  tents.     We 

were  k:indly  received,  and  they  gave  us  plenty  of  homony, 

and  vvi]^  fowl    boiled  and   roasted.     As   the    geese,  ducks, 

,  swans,  &c.,  ]\ere  are  well  grain-fed,  they  were  remarkably 

fat,  fspeciauy  the  green-necked  ducks. 

•    Thj  wild  fowl  here  feed  upon  a  kind  of  wild  rice  that 


\ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


207 


S3  spontaneously  in  the  shallow  water,  or  wet  places  along 
e  sides  or  in  the  corners  of  the  lakes. 

As  the  wind  was  high  iind  we  coul!  not  proceed  on«our 
voyage,  we  remained  here  sew  nil  days,  and  killed  afeftindance 
of  wild  fowl,  and  a  number  of  raccoons. 

When  a  company  of  Indians  are  moving  together  on  the 
lake,  as  it  is  at  this  time  of  the  year  often  dangerous  sailinc^, 
the  old  men  hold  a  council ;  and  when  they  agree  to  embark, 
every  o.ie  is  engaged  immediately  in  making  ready,  without 
oflv ling  one  word  against  the  measure,  though  the  lake  may 
b  L>o:  u.oas  and  horrid.  One  morning,  though  the  wind  ap- 
pealed to  me  to  b.e  as  high  as  in  day  a  past,  and  the  billows 
rn;^  ig,  yet  the  call  was  given  yohoh-yohon,  which  was  quickly 
answered  by  all — ooh-ooh,  which  signifies  agreed.  We  were 
all  instantly  engaged  in  preparing  to  start,  and  hi^jfl  confiidera- 
blc  difHculties  in  embarking. 

As  soon  as  we  got  into  our  canoes  we  fell  to  paddling  with 
all  our  might,  making  out  from  the  shore.  Though  these  sort 
of  canoes  ride  waves  beyond  what  could  be  expected,  yet  the 
water  several  times  dashed  into  them.  When  we  got  out 
about  half  a  mile  from  shore,  we  hoisted  sail,  and  as  it  was 
nearly  a  west  wind,  we  then  seemed  to  ride  the  waves  with 
ease,  and  went  on  at  a  rapid  rate.  We  then  all  laid  down  our 
paddles,  excepting  one  that  steered,  and  there  was  no  water 
dashed  into  our  canoes  until  we  came  near  the  shore  again. 
We  sailed  about  sixty  miles  that  day,  and  encamped  sc  me 
time  before  night. 

The  next  day  we  again  embarked,  and  went  on  very  well 
for  some  time ;  but  the  lake  being  boisterous,  and  the  wind 
not  fair,  we  were  obliged  to  make  to  shore,  which  we  accom- 
plished with  hard  work  and  some  difficulty  in  landing.  The 
next  morning  a  council  was  held  by  the  old  men. 

As  we  had  this  day  to  pass  by  a  long  precipice  of  rocks 
on  the  shore  about  nine  miles,  which  rendered  it  impossible 
for  us  to  land,  tl»ough  the  wind  was  high  and  the  lake  Touoh, 
yet,  as  it  was  fair,  we  were  all  ordered  to  embark,  ^e 
wrought  ourselves  out  from  the  shore  and  hoisted  sail,  k|]^at 
we  used  in  place  of  sail-cloth  were  our  tent  mats,  whicFan- 
swered  the  purpose  very  well,)  and  went  on  for  some  timrf 
with  a  fair  wiikt,  uatil  we  were  opposite  to  the  precipice,  and  9 
then  it  turned  towards  the  shore,  and  we  began  to  «ar  we^ 
should  be  cast  upon  the  rocks.  Two  of  the  canoes  were  con- 
siderabfy  farrh^T  out  from  the  rocks  than  the  can^  I  was  in. 
Those  t*ho  ivere  tarthr>t  jut  in  the  lake  did  not  let  daw% 
their  sails  until  they  hud  passed  the  precipice;  but  as  "W© 
were  nearer  the  rock,  we  wore  obliged  to  lower  our  sails,  and 


.»*ii , 


M 


*• 


Tt  •'■■  iti*it'_".  iitr'. .  jc.  t 


^p- 


20S 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


% 


■>* 


# 


paddle  with  all  our  might.  With  much  difficulty  we  cleared 
ourselves  of  the  rock,  and  landed.  As  the  other  canoes  had 
landed  before  us,  there  were  immediately  runners  sent  off  to 
see  if  we  were  all  safely  landed. 

This  night  the  wind  fell,  and  the  next  morning  the  lake 
was  tolerably  calm,  and  we  embarked  without  difficulty,  and 
paddled  along  near  the  shore,  until  we  came  to  the  mouth  of 
Cayahaga,  which  empties  into  lake  Erie  on  the  south  side, 
betwixt  Canesadooharie  and  Presq'  Isle. 

We  turned  up  Cayahaga  and  encamped,  where  we  staid 
and  hunted  for  several  days;  and  so  we  kept  moving  and 
hunting  until  we  came  to  the  forks  of  Cayahaga. 

This  is  a  very  gentle  river,  and  but  few  ripples,  or  swift 
running  places,  from  the  mouth  to  the  forks.  Deer  here  were 
tolerably  plenty,  large  and  fat ;  but  bear  and  other  game 
scarce.  The  upland  is  hilly,  and  principally  second  and  third 
rate  land;  the  timber  chiefly  black  oak,  white  oak,  hickory, 
dogwood,  &c.  The  bottoms  are  rich  and  large,  and  the  tim- 
ber is  walnut,  locust,  mulberry,  sugar-tree,  red  haw,  black  haw, 
wild  apple-trees,  &c.  The  West  Branch  of  this  river  interlocks 
with  the  East  Branch  of  Muskingum,  and  the  East  Branch 
with  the  Big  Beaver  creek,  that  empties  into  the  Ohio  about 
thirty  miles  below  Pittsburgh. 

From  the  forks  of  Cayahaga  to  the  East  Branch  of  Musk- 
ingum there  is  a  carrying  place,  where  the  Indians  carry 
their  canoes,  &c.,  from  the  waters  of  lake  Erie  int^  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Ohio. 

From  the  forks  I  went  over  with  some  hunters  to  the  East 
Branch  of  Muskingum,  where  they  killed  several  deer,  a  num- 
ber of  beavers,  and  returned  heavy  laden  with  skins  and  meat, 
which  we  carried  on  our  backs,  as  we  had  no  horses. 

The  land  here  is  chiefly  second  and  third  rate,  and  the  tim- 
ber chiefly  oak  and  hickory.  A  little  above  the  forks,  on  the 
East  Branch  of  Cayahaga,  are  considerable  rapids,  very  rocky 
for  some  distance,  but  no  perpendicular  falls. 
'  i^bout  the  first  of  December,  1756,  we  were  preparing  for 
lea"%ig  the  river :  we  buried  our  canoes,  and  as  usual  hung 
up  our  skins,  and  every  one  had  a  pack  to  carry.  The  squaws 
also  packed  up  their  tents,  which  they  carried  in  large  rolls 
that  extended  up  above  their  heads,  and  though  a  great  bulk, 
yet  no#  heavy.  We  steered  about  a  south-east  course,  and 
could  not  march  over  ten  miles  per  day.  At  night  we  lodged 
in  our  fla'g  tents,  which,  when  erected,  were  nearly  in  the 
shape  of  a  sugar-loaf,  and  about  fifteen  feet  diameter  at  the 
*  ground. 

In  this  manner  we  proceeded  about  forty  miles,  and  win- 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


209 


cleared 
es  had 
t  off  to 

le  lake 

ty,  and 
outh  of 
th  side, 


ire 


staid 


ing  and 


or  swift 
!re  were 
jr  game 
nd  third 
hickory, 
the  tim- 
ick  haw, 
[iterlocks 
t  Branch 
lio  about 


ns 


Musk- 
carry 
the  wa- 


the  East 
a  num- 
nd  meat, 


s 


the  tira- 
on  the 
ry  rocky 


anng  for 
ual  hung 
squaws 
rge  rolls 
eat  bulk, 
rse,  and 
e  lodged 
y  in  the 
r  at  the 

land  win- 


tered in  these  tents,  on  the  waters  of  Beaver  creek,  near  a  little 
lake  or  large  pond,  which  is  about  two  miles  long  and  one 
broad,  and  a  remarkable  place  for  beaver. 

It  is  a  received  opinion  among  the  Indians  that  the  geese 
turn  to  beavers,  and  the  snakes  to  raccoons ;  and  though  Te- 
caughretanego,  who  was  a  wise  man,  was  not  fully  persuaded 
that  this  was  true,  yet  he  seemed  in  some  measure  to  be  car- 
ried away  with  this  whimsical  notion.  He  said  that  this  pond 
had  been  always  a  great  place  for  beaver.  Though  he  said 
he  knew  them  to  be  frequently  all  killed,  (as  he  thought,)  yet 
the  next  winter  they  would  be  as  plenly  as  ever.  And  as  the 
beaver  was  an  animal  that  did  not  travel  by  land,  and  there 
being  no  water  communication  to  or  from  this  pond,  how 
could  such  a  number  of  beavers  get  there  year  after  year  ?  But 
as  this  pond  was  also  a  considerable  place  for  geese,  when 
they  came  in  the  fall  from  the  north,  and  alighted  in  this  pond, 
they  turned  beavers,  all  but  the  feet,  which  remained  nearly 
the  same. 

I  said,  that  though  there  was  no  water  communication  in  or 
out  of  this  pond,  yet  it  appeared  that  it  was  fed  by  springs,  as 
it  was  always  clear,  and  never  stagnated ;  and  as  a  very  large 
spring  rose  about  a  mile  below  this  pond,  it  was  likely  that 
this  spring  came  from  this  pond.  In  the  fall,  when  this  spring 
is  comparatively  low,  there  would  be  air  undef  ground  suffi- 
cient for  the  beavers  to  breathe  in,  with  their  heads  above 
water,  &r  they  cannot  live  long  under  water,  and  so  they 
might  have  a  subterraneous  passage  by  water  into  this  pond. 
Tecaughretanego  granted  that  it  might  be  so. 

About  the  sides  of  this  pond  there  grew  great  abundance  of 
cranberries,  which  the  Indians  gathered  up  on  the  ice  when 
the  pond  was  frozen  over.  These  berries  were  about  as  large 
as  rifle  bullets,  of  a  bright  red  color,  an  agreeable  sour, 
though  rather  too  sour  of  themselves,  but  when  mixed  with 
sugar  had  a  very  agreeable  taste. 

In  conversation  with  Tecaughretanego,  I  happened  to  be 
talking  of  the  beavers  catching  fish.  He  asked  me  wl 
thought  that  the  beaver  caught  fish.  I  told  him  that 
read  of  the  beaver  making  dams  for  the  conveniency  of  filffiing. 
He  laughed,  and  made  game  of  me  and  my  book.  He  said 
the  man  that  wrote  that  book  knew  nothing  about  the  beaver. 
Th'^  beaver  never  did  eat  flestf  of  any  kind,  but  liv^  on  the 
bark  of  trees,  roots,  and  other  vegetables.  ' 

In  order  to  know  certainly  how  this  was,  when  we  killed  a 
beaver  I  carefully  examined  the  intestines,  but  found  no  ap- 
pearance of  fish;  I  afterwards  made  an  experiment  on%  pe^ 
beaver  which  we  had,  and  found  that  it  would  neither  eat  nth 

18# 


wt^I 
Mad 


•*■ 


Mm^^ 


'M 


i  ft 


■* 


m 


■r^ 


210 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


nor  flesh ;  therefore  I  acknowledged  that  the  hook  1  had  read 
was  wrong. 

I  asked  him  if  the  beaver  was  an  amphibious  animal,  or  if  it 
could  live  unijer  water.  He  said  that  the  beaver  was  a  kind 
of  subterraneous  water  animal  that  lives  in  or  near  the  water ; 
but  they  were  no  more  amphibious  than  the  ducks  and  geese 
were,  which  was  constantly  proven  to  be  the  case,  as  all  the 
beavers  that  are  caught  in  steel  traps  are  drov  led,  provided 
the  trap  be  heavy  enough  to  keep  them  under  ' .  ater.  As  the 
beaver  does  not  eat  fish,  I  inquired  of  Tecaughretanego  why 
the  beaver  made  such  large  dams.  He  said  they  were  of  use 
to  them  in  various  respects — both  for  their  safety  and  food. 
For  their  safety,  as  by  raising  the  water  over  the  mouths  of 
their  holes,  or  subterraneous  lodging  places,  they  could  not  be 
easily  found ;  and  as  the  beaver  feeds  chiefly  on  the  bark  of 
trees,  by  raising  the  water  over  the  banks  they  can  cut  down 
saplings  for  bark  to  feed  upon  without  going  out  much  upon 
the  land ;  and  when  they  are  obliged  to  go  out  on  land  for 
this  food  they  frequently  are  caught  by  the  wolves.  As  the 
beaver  can  run  upon  land  but  little  faster  than  a  water  tortoise, 
and  is  no  fighting  animal,  if  they  are  any  distance  from  the 
water  they  become  an  easy  prey  to  their  enemies. 

I  asked  Tecaughretanego  what  was  the  use  of  the  beavers' 
stones,  or  glands,  to  them ;  as  the  she  beaver  has  two  pair, 
which  is  a|mmonly  called  the  oil  stones,  and  the  bark  stones. 
He  said  tnat  as  the  beavers  are  the  dumbest  of  all  animals, 
and  scarcely  ever  make  any  noise,  and  as  they  were  working 
creatures,  they  made  use  of  this  smell  in  order  to  work  in 
concert.  If  an  old  beaver  was  to  come  on  the  bank  and  rub 
his  breech  upon  the  ground,  and  raise  a  perfume,  the  others 
will  collect  from  different  places  and  go  to  work  :  this  is  also 
of  use  to  them  in  travelling,  that  they  may  thereby  search  out 
and  find  their  company.  Cunning  hunters,  finding  this  out, 
have  made  use  of  it  against  the  beavers,  in  order  to  catch 
them.  What  is  the  bait  which  you  see  them  make  use  of  but 
a  compound  of  the  oil  and  bark  stones  ?  By  this  perOjme, 
which  is  only  a  false  signal,  they  decoy  them  to  the  trap. 

Near  this  pond  beaver  was  the  principal  game.  Before  the 
water  froze  up  we  caught  a  great  many  with  wooden  and  steel 
traps ;  but  after  that,  we  hunted  the  beaver  on  the  ice.  Some 
places  l^pre  the  beavers  build  large  houses  to  live  in ;  and  in 
other  places  they  have  subterraneous  lodgings  in  the  banks. 
■  Where  they  lodge  in  the  ground  we  have  no  chance  of  hunting 
them  on  the  ice ;  but  where  they  have  houses,  we  go  with 
mal%and  handspikes,  and  break  all  the  hollow  ice,  to  prevent 
tbem  ftom  getting  their  heads  above  the  water  under  it.   Then 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


211 


read 

ir  if  it 
I  kind 
irater ; 
geese 
ill  the 
Dvided 
As  the 
o  why 
of  use 
d  food, 
iths  of 
not  be 
bark  of 
It  down 
;h  upon 
[and  for 
As  the 
tortoise, 
rom  the 

beavers' 
svo  pair, 
stones, 
animals, 
working 
work  in 
and  rub 
e  others 
is  also 
arch  out 
"this  out, 
to  catch 
;e  of  but 
er^ume, 

pfore  the 
lind  steel 
Some 
and  in 
banks. 
1  hunting 
go  with 
prevent 
Then 


wo  break  a  hole  in  the  house,  and  they  make  their  escape  into 
the  water ;  but  as  they  cannot  live  long  under  water,  they  are 
obliged  to  go  to  some  of  those  broken  places  to  breathe,  and 
the  Indians  commonly  put  in  their  hands,  catchy  them  by  the 
hind  leg,  haul  them  on  the  ice,  and  tomahawk  them.  Some- 
times they  shoot  them  in  the  head  when  they  raise  it  above 
the  water.  I  asked  the  Indians  if  they  were  not  afraid  to  catch 
the  beavers  with  their  hands.  They  said  no  :  they  v/ere  not 
much  01  a  biting  creature ;  yet  if  they  would  catch  them  by 
the  fore  foot  they  would  bite. 

I  went  out  with  Tecaughretanego  and  some  others  a  beaver 
hunting ;  but  we  did  not  succeed,  and  on  our  return  we  saw 
where  several  raccoons  had  passed  while  the  snow  was  soft, 
though  there  was  now  a  crust  upon  it ;  we  all  made  a  halt, 
looking  at  the  raccoon  tracks.  As  they  saw  a  tree  with  a  hole 
in  it,  they  told  me  to  go  and  see  if  they  had  gon6  in  thereat ; 
and  if  they  had  to  halloo,  and  they  would  come  and  take  them 
out.  When  I  went  to  that  tree,  I  found  they  had  gone  past ; 
but  I  saw  another  the  way  they  had  gone,  and  proceeded  to 
examine  that,  and  found  they  had  gone  up  it.  I  then  began 
to  halloo,  but  could  have  no  answer. 

As  it  began  to  snow  and  blow  most  violently,  I  returned  and 
proceeded  after  my  company,  and  for  some  time  could  see  their 
tracks ;  but  the  old  snow  being  only  about  three  inches  deep, 
and  a  crust  upon  it,  the  present  driving  snow  soonfffilled  up 
the  tracks.  As  I  had  only  a  bow,  arrows,  and  tomahawk  with 
me,  and  no  way  to  strike  fire,  I  appeared  to  be  in  a  dismal 
situation;  and  as  the  air  was  dark  with  sncw,  I  had  little 
more  prospect  of  steering  my  course  than  I  would  in  the  night. 
At  length  I  came  to  a  hollow  tree,  with  a  hole  at  one  side  that 
I  could  go  in  at.  I  went  in,  and  found  that  it  was  a  dry 
place,  and  the  hollow  about  three  feet  diameter,  and  high 
enough  for  me  to  stand  in.  f  found  that  there  was  also  a 
considerable  quantity  of  soft,  dry  rotten  wood  around  this  hol- 
low ;  I  therefore  concluded  that  I  would  lodge  here,  and  that 
I  would  go  to  work,  and  stop  up  the  door  of  my  house.  I 
stripped  off  my  blanket,  (which  was  all  the  clothes  that  I  Mad, 
excepting  a  breech-clout,  leggins  and  moccasins,)  and  with 
my  tomahawk  fell  to  chopping  at  the  top  of  a  fallen  tree  that 
lay  near,  and  carried  wood,  and  set  it  up  on  end  against  the 
door,  until  I  had  it  three  or  four  feet  thick  all  around, except- 
ing a  hole  I  had  left  to  creep  in  at.  I  had  a  block  prepared  that 
1  could  haul  after  me  to  stop  this  hole ;  and  before  I  went 
in  I  put  in  a  number  of  small  sticks  that  I  might  more  effect 
tually  stop  it  on  the  inside.  When  I  went  in,  I  took  my  tdma- 
hawk  and  cut  down  all  the  dry  rotten  wood  I  could  get,  and 


■% 


t 


,',"3e.-. 


212 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


4 


*> 


m 


m- 


f  * 


beat  it  small.  With  it  I  made  a  bed  like  a  goose-nest  or  hog- 
bed,  and  with  the  small  sticks  stopped  every  hole,  until  my 
house  was  almost  dark.  I  stripped  off  my  moccasins,  and 
danced  in  the  centre  of  my  bed,  for  about  half  an  hour,  in 
order  to  warm  myself.  In  this  time  my  feet  and  whole  body 
were  agreeably  warmed.  The  snow,  in  the  mean  while,  had 
stopped  all  the  holes,  so  that  my  house  was  as  dark  as  a  dun- 
geon, though  I  knew  it  could  not  yet  be  dark  out  of  doors.  I' 
then  coiled  myself  up  in  my  blanket,  lay  down  in  my  little 
round  bed,  and  had  a  tolerable  night's  lodging.  When  I 
awoke  all  was  dark — not  the  least  glimmering  of  light  was  to 
be  seen.  Immediately  I  recollected  that  I  was  not  to  expect 
light  in  this  new  habitation,  as  there  was  neither  door  nor 
window  in  it.  As  I  could  hear  the  storm  raging,  and  did  not 
suffer  much  cold  as  I  was  then  situated,  I  concluded  I  would 
stay  in  my  nest  until  I  was  certain  it  was  day.  When  I  had 
reason  to  conclude  that  it  surely  was  day,  I  arose  and  put  on 
my  moccasins,  which  I  had  laid  under  my  head  to  keep  from 
freezing.  I  then  endeavored  to  find  the  door,  and  had  to  do 
all  by  the  sense  of  feeling,  which  took  me  some  time.  At 
length  I  found  the  block,  but  it  being  heavy,  and  a  large  quan- 
tity of  snow  having  fallen  on  it,  at  the  first  attempt  I  did  not 
move  it.  I  then  felt  terrified — among  all  the  hardships  I  had 
sustained;  I  never  knew  before  what  it  was  to  be  thus  deprived 
of  lightj^"  This,  with  the  other  circumstances  attending  it, 
appeared  grievous.  I  went  straightway  to  bed  again,  wrapped 
my  blanket  round  me,  and  lay  and  mused  a  while,  and  then 
prayed  to  Almighty  God  to  direct  and  protect  me  as  he  had 
done  heretofore.  I  once  again  attempted  to  move  away  the 
block,  which  proved  successful ;  it  moved  about  nine  inches. 
With  this  a  considerable  quantity  of  snow  fell  in  from  above, 
and  I  immediately' received  light;  so  that  I  found  a  very  great 
snow  had  fallen,  above  what  I  had  ever  seen  in  one  night.  I 
then  knew  why  I  could  not  easily  move  the  block,  and  I  was 
■"so  rejoiced  at  obtaining  the  light  that  all  my  other  difficulties 
seemed  to  vanish.  I  then  turned  into  my  cell,  and  returned 
God  thanks  for  having  once  more  received  the  light  of  heaven. 
At  length  I  belted  my  blanket  about  me,  got  my  tomahawk, 
bow  and  arrows,  and  went  out  of  my  den. 

I  was  now  in  tolerable  high  spirits,  though  the  snow  had 
fallen  above  three  fe°it  deep,  in  addition  to  what  was  on  the 
ground  before ;  and  the  only  imperfect  guide  I  had  in  order  to 
.  steer  my  course  to  camp  was  the  trees,  as  the  moss  generally 
grows  on  the  north-west  side  of  them,  if  they  are  straight.  I 
proceeded  on,  v.'ading  through  the  snow,  and  about  twelve 
o'clock  (as  it  appeared  afterwards,  from  that  time  to  night,  for 


ir  hog- 

itil  my 

s,  and 

3ur,  in 

e  body 

le,  had 
a  dun- 

(ors.     I ' 

ly  little 

^hen  I 

;  was  to 

)  expect 

oor  nor 
did  not 

I  would 

3n  I  had 

d  put  on 

3ep  from. 

ad  to  do 

me.     At 

ge  quan- 

I  did  not 

ips  I  had 
deprived 

nding  it, 
wrapped 
and  then 
s  he  had 
away  the 
.e  inches. 
)m  above, 
ery  great 
night.     I 
md  I  was 
fficulties 
returned 
if  heaven, 
mahawk. 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


213 


it  was  yet  cloudy)  I  came  upon  the  creek  that  our  camp  was 
on,  about  half  a  mile  below  the  camp ;  and  when  I  came  in 
sight  of  the  camp,  I  found  that  there  was  great  joy,  by  the 
shouts  and  yelling  of  the  boys,  &c. 

When  I  arrived,  they  all  came  round  me,  and  received  me- 
gladly ;  but  at  this  time  no  questions  were  asked,  and  I  was 
taken  into  a  tent,  where  they  gave  me  plenty  of  fat  beaver 
meat,  and  then  asked  me  to  smoke.  When  I  had  done,  Te- 
caughretanego  desired  me  to  walk  out  to  a  fire  they  had  made. 
I  went  out,  and  they  all  collected  round  me,  both  men,  women, 
and  boys.  Tecaughretanego  asked  me  to  give  them  a  particu- 
lar account  of  what  had  happened  from  the  time  they  left  me 
yesterday  until  now.  I  told  them  the  whole  of  the  story,  and 
they  never  interrupted  me  ;  but  when  I  made  a  stop,  the  inter- 
vals were  filled  with  loud  acclamations  of  joy.  As  I  could  not 
at  this  time  talk  Ottawa  or  Jibewa  well,  (which  is  nearly  the 
same,)  I  delivered  my  story  in  Caughnewaga.  As  my  sister 
Molly's  husband  was  a  Jibewa,  and  could  understand  Caugh- 
newaga, he  acted  as  interpreter,  and  delivered  my  story  to  the 
Jibe  was  and  Ottawas,  which  they  received  with  pleasure. 
When  all  this  was  done,  Tecaughretanego  made  a  speech  to 
me  in  the  following  manner  : 

*'  Brother, — You  see  we  have  prepared  snow-shoes  to  go 
after  you,  and  were  almost  ready  to  go  when  you  appeared ; 
yet,  as  you  had  not  been  accustomed  to  hardships  in^your  coun- 
try, to  the  east,  we  never  expected  to  see  you  alive.  Now  we 
are  glad  to  see  you  in  various  respects :  we  are  g'ad  to  see 
you  on  your  own  account ;  and  we  are  glad  to  see  the  prospect 
of  your  filling  the  place  of  a  great  man,  in  whose  room  you 
were  adopted.  We  do  not  blame  you  for  what  has  happened, 
we  blame  ourselves ;  because  we  did  not  think  of  thisdriving 
snow  filling  up  the  tracks,  until  after  we  came  to  camp. 

"  Brother, — Your  conduct  on  this  occasion  hath  pleased  us 
much ;  you  have  given  us  an  evidence  of  your  fortitude,  skill, 
and  resolution ;  and  we  hope  you  will  always  go  on  to  do 
great  actions,  as  it  is  only  great  actions  that  can  make  a  great 
man." 

I  told  my  brother  Tecaughretanego  that  I  thanked  them  for 
their  care  of  me,  and  for  the  kindness  I  always  ■cceived.  I 
told  him  that  I  always  wished  to  do  great  actions,  and  hoped  I 
never  would  do  any  thing  to  dishonor  any  of  those  with  v^om 
I  was  connected.  I  likewise  told  my  Jibewa  brother-in-law  to 
tell  his  people  that  I  also  thanked  them  for  their  care  and 
kindness. 

The  next  morning  some  of  the  hunters  went  out  on  snow- 
shoes,  killed  several  deer,  and  hauled  some  of  them  into  camp 


'\ 


\  Ut 


■Sii- 


1^'- 


mm 

f\ 

h^ 
*lll 

i 

*? 


m 


I' 


« 


214 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


upon  the  snow.  They  fixed  their  carrying  strings  (which  are 
broad  in  the  middle  and  small  at  each  end)  in  the  fore  feet 
and  nose  of  the  deer,  and  laid  the  broad  part  of  it  on  their 
heads  or  about  their  shoulders,  and  pulled  it  along ;  and  when 
it  is  moving,  will  not  sink  in  the  snow  much  deeper  than  a 
snow-shoe ;  and  when  taken  with  the  grain  of  the  hair,  slips 
along  very  easily. 

The  snow-shoes  are  made  like  a  hoop-net,  and  wrought  with 
buckskin  thongs.  Each  shoe  is  about  two  feel  and  a  half  long, 
and  about  eighteen  inches  broad  before,  and  small  behind,  with 
cross-bars,  in  order  to  fix  or  tie  them  to  their  feet.  After  the 
snow  had  lain  a  few  days,  the  Indians  tomahawked  the  deer, 
by  pursuing  them  in  this  manner. 

About  two  weeks  after  this  there  came  a  warm  rain,  and 
took  away  the  chief  part  of  the  snow,  and  broke  up  the  ice ; 
then  we  engaged  in  making  wooden  traps  to  catch  beavers,  as 
we  had  but  few  steel  traps.  These  traps  are  made  nearly  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  raccoon  traps  already  described. 

One. day,  as  I  was  looking  after  my  traps,  I  got  benighted, 
by  beaver  ponds  intercepting  my  way  to  camp ;  and  as  I  had 
neglected  to  take  fireworks  with  me,  and  the  weather  very 
cold,  I  could  find  no  suitable  lodging  place  ;  therefore,  the  only 
expedient  I  could  think  of  to  keep  myself  from  freezing  was 
exercise.  jJL  danced  and  hallooed  the  whole  night  with  all  my 
might,  amTthe  next  day  came  to  camp.  Though  I  sufl!ered 
much  more  this  time  than  the  other  night  I  lay  out,  yet  the 
Indians  were  not  so  much  concerned,  as  they  thought  I  had 
fireworks  with  me ;  but  when  they  knew  how  it  was,  they  did 
not  blame  me.  They  said  that  old  hunters  were  frequently 
involved  in  this  place,  as  the  beaver  dams  were  one  above 
another  on  everyjcree|c  and  run,  so  that  it  is  hard  to  find  a 
fording  place.  They  applauded  me  for  my  fortitude,  and  said, 
as  they  had  now  plenty  of  beaver  skins,  they  would  purchase 
*ie  a  new  gun  at  Detroit,  as  we  were  to  go  there  the  next 
spring;  and  then  if  I  should  chance  to  be  lost  in  dark  weather, 
I  could  make  a  fire,  kill  provision,  and  return  to  camp  v/hen 
the  sun  shined.  By  being  bewildered  on  the  waters  of  Musk- 
ingum, I  lost  repute,  and  was  reduced  to  the  bow  and  arrow, 
and  by  lyi?%  out  two  nights  here  I  regained  my  credit. 

AJter  some  time  the  waters  all  froze  again,  and  then,  as 
foih;^erly,  we  hunted  beavers  on  the  ice.  Though  beaver  meat, 
without  salt  or  bread,  was  the  chief  of  our  food  this  winter,  yet 
we  had  alway^plenty,  and  I  was  well  contented  with  my  diet, 
as  it  iippeared  delicious  fare,  after  the  way  we  had  lived  the 
winter  before. 

Some  time  in  February,  we  scaffolded  up  our  fur  and  skins, 


V    COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


216 


h  are 
e  feet 
their 
when 
han  a 
,  slips 

It  with 
f  long, 
i,  with 
ter  the 
e  deer, 

in,  and 
he  ice ; 
vers,  as 
jarly  in 

d.' 

lighted, 

IS  I  had 

er  very 

the  only 

ing  was 

1  all  my 
suffered 
yet  the 
It  I  had 
;hey  did 
squently 
[e  above 
:o  find  a 
ind  said, 
(urchase 
Ithe  next 
tveather, 
p  v/hen 
f  Musk- 
arrow, 

then,  as 
[er  meat, 
Inter,  yet 
Imy  diet, 
^ved  the 

Id  skins, 


and  moved  about  ten  miles  in  quest  of  a  sugar  camp,  or  a  suit- 
able place  to  make  sugar,  and  encamped  in  a  large  bottom  on 
the  head  waters  of  Big  Beaver  creek.  We  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  moving,  as  we  had  a  blind  Caughnewaga  boy,  about 
fifteen  years  of  age,  to  lead ;  and  as  this  country  is  very 
brushy,  we  frequently  had  him  to  carry.  We  had  also  my 
Jibewa  brother-in-law's  father  with  us,  who  was  thought  by 
the  Indians  to  be  a  great  conjuror ;  his  name  was  Manetohcoa. 
This  old  man  was  so  decrepit  that  we  had  to  carry  him  this 
route  upon  a  bier,  and  all  our  baggage  to  pack  on  our  backs. 

Shortly  after  we  came  to  this  place,  the  squaws  began  to 
make  sugar.  We  had  no  large  kettles  with  us  this  year,  and 
they  made  the  frost,  in  some  measure,  supply  the  place  of  fire, 
in  making  sugar.  Their  large  bark  vessels,  for  holding  the 
stock  water,  they  made  broad  and  shallow ;  and  as  the  weather 
is  very  cold  here,  it  frequently  freezes  at  night  in  sugar  time ; 
and  the  ice  they  break  and  cast  out  of  the  vessels.  I  asked 
them  if  they  were  not  throwing  away  the  sugar.  They  said 
no ;  it  was  water  they  were  casting  away;  sugar  did  not^eeze, 
and  there  was  scarcely  any  in  that  ice.  They  said  I  might 
try  the  experiment,  and  boil  some  of  it,  and  see  what  I  would 
get.  I  never  did  try  it ;  but  I  observed  that,  after  several  times 
freezing,  the  water  that  remained  in  the  vessel  changed  its 
color,  and  became  brown  and  very  sweet.  m^ 

About  the  time  we  were  done  making  sugar  the  sTOw  went 
off  the  ground  ;  and  one  night  a  squaw  raised  an  alarm.  She 
said  she  saw  two  men  with  guns  in  their  hands,  upon  the  bank 
on  the  other  side  of  the  creek,  spying  our  tents ;  they  were 
supposed  to  be  Johnston's  Mohawks.  On  this  the  Squaws  were 
ordered  to  slip  quietly  out  some  distance  into  the  bushes,  and 
all  who  had  either  guns  or  bows  were  tp  souat  in  the  bushes 
near  the  tents ;  and  if  the  enemy  rushed  upf  we  were  to  give 
them  the  first  fire,  and  let  the  squaws  have  an  opportunity  of 
escaping.  I  got  down  beside  Tecaughretanego,  and  he  whis- . 
pered  to  me  not  to  be  afraid,  for  he  would  speak  to  the  Mo- 
hawks, and  as  they  spoke  the  same  tongue  that  we  did  they 
would  not  hurt  the  Caughnewagas  or  m*^ ;  but  they  would  kill 
all  the  Jibewas  and  Ottawas  that  they  could,  and  take  us  along 
with  them.  This  news  pleased  me  well,  and  I  heartHy  wished 
for  the  approach  of  the  Mohawks.  <f. 

Before  we  withdrew  from  the  tents  thtey  had  carried  Marie* 
tohcoa  to  the  fire,  and  gave  him  his  conjuring  tools,<which  were 
dyed  feathers,  the  bone  of  the  shoulder-blade  of  |l  wildcat,  to- 
bacco, &c.  And  while  we  were  in  the  bushes,  Manetohcoa 
was  in  a  tent  at  the  fire,  conjuring  away  to  the  utmost  of  his 
ability.    At  length  he  called  aloud  for  us  all  to  come  in,  which 


r*  ; 


m 


^#.' 


"^A, 


«:^ 


*-!*. 


II 


ii 


-t, 


216 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


was  quickly  obeyed.  When  we  came  in  he  told  us  that  after 
he  had  gone  through  the  whole  of  his  ceremony,  and  expected 
to  see  a  number  of  Mohawks  on  the  flat  bone  when  it  was 
warmed  at  the  fire,  the  pictures  of  two  wolves  only  appeared. 
He  said,  though  there  were  no  Mohawks  about,  we  must  not 
be  angry  with  the  squaw  for  giving  -.  false  alarm ;  as  she  had 
occasion  to  go  out  and  happened  to  see  the  wolves,  though  it 
was  moonlight,  yet  she  got  afraid,  and  she  conceited  it  was 
Indit  ns  with  guns  in  their  hands.  So  he  said  we  might  all  go 
to  sleep,  for  there  was  no  danger ;  and  accordingly  we  did. 

Tho  next  morning  we  went  to  the  place,  and  found  wolf 
track  J,  and  where  they  had  scratched  with  their  feet  like  dogs ; 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  moccasin  tracks.  If  there  is  any  such 
thing  as  a  wizard,  I  think  Manetohcoa  was  as  likely  to  be  one 
as  any  man,  as  he  was  a  professed  worshipper  of  the  devil. 
But  let  him  be  a  conjuror  or  not,  I  am  persuaded  that  the  In- 
dians beJieved  what  he  told  them  upon  this  occasion,  as  well 
as  if  it  had  come  from  an  infallible  oracle ;  or  they  would  not, 
after  such  an  alarm  as  this,  go  all  to  sleep  in  an  unconcerned 
manner.  This  appeared  to  me  the  most  like  witchcraft  of  any 
thing  I  beheld  while  I  was  with  them.  Though  I  scrutinized 
their  proceedings  in  business  of  this  kind,  yet  I  generally  found 
that  their  pretended  witchcraft  was  either  art  or  mistaken  no- 
tions, whereby  they  deceived  themselves.  Before  a  battle  they 
spy  the  enemy's  motions  carefully,  and  when  they  find  that 
tney  can  have  considefSble  advantag-e,  and  the  greatest  prospect 
of  success,  then  the  old  men  pretend  to  conjure,  or  to  tell  what 
the  event  will  be  ;  and  this  they  do  in  a  figurative  manner, 
which  will  bear  something  of  a  diflferent  interpretation,  which 
generally  comes  4o  paSs  nearly  as  they  foretold.  Therefore  the 
young  warriors  generally  believed  these  old  conjurors,  which 
had  a  tendency  to  allimate  and  excite  them  to  push  on  with 
vigor.  ■'  » 

Some  time  in  March,  1757,  we  began  to  move  back  to  the 
forks  of  Cayahaga,  which  was  about  forty  or  fifty  miles.  And 
As  we  had  no  horses,  we  had  all  our  baggage  and  several  hun- 
dred weight  of  beaver  skins,  and  some  deer  and  bear  skins,  all 
to  pack  on  our  backs.  The  method  we  took  to  accomplish  this 
was  by  making  short  days'  journeys.  In  the  morning  we  would 
SMve  on,  with  as  much  as  we  were  able  to  carry,  about  five 
Ihiles,  and  encamp,  and  then  run  back  for  more.  We  com- 
monly malfe  three  such  trips  in  the  day.  When  we  came  to 
the  great  p(H|d,  we  staid  there  one  day  to  rest  ourselves,  and  to 
kilMucks  and  geese. 

While  we  remained  here,  I  went  in  company  with  a  young 
Caughnewaga,  who  was  about  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  of 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


2] 


lected 
t  was 
sared. 
St  not 
le  had 
ugh  it 
it  was 
all  go 
lid. 

d  wolf 
5  dogs; 

\y  such 

be  one 
5  devil, 
the  In- 
as  well 
uld  not, 
ncerned 
ft  of  any 
utinized 
ly  found 
iken  no- 
ttle  they 
•ind  that 
[prospect 
;ell  what 
mannet, 
n,  which 
jefore  the 
•s,  which 
on  with 

ck  to  the 
fes.     And 
bral  hun- 
^kins,  all 
plish  this 
Ive  would 
libout  five 
''e  com- 
catne  to 
js,  and  to 

a  young 
yeaTS  of 


age,  Chinnohete  by  name,  in  order  to  gather  cranberries.  As 
he  was  gathering  berries  at  some  distance  from  me,  three  Jib- 
ewa  squaws  crept  up  undiscovered,  and  made  at  him  speedily, 
but  he  nimbly  escaped,  and  came  to  me  apparently  terrifiea. 
I  asked  him  what  he  was  afraid  of.  He  replied,  did  you  not 
see  those  squaws  ?  I  told  him  I  did,  and  they  appeared  to  be 
in  a  very  good  humor.  I  asked  him  wherefore  then  he  was 
afraid  of  them.  He  said  the  Jibewa  squaws  were  very  bad 
women,  and  had  a  very  ugly  custom"  among  them.  I  asked 
him  what  that  custom  was.  He  said  that  when  two  or  three 
of  them  could  catch  a  young  lad,  that  was  betwixt  a  man  and 
a  boy,  out  by  himself,  if  they  could  overpower  him,  they  would 
strip  him  by  force,  in  order  to  see  whether  he  was  coming  on 
to  be  a  man  or  not.  He  said  that  was  what  they  intended 
when  they  crawled  up  and  ran  so  violently  at  him  ;  but,  said 
he,  I  am  very  glad  that  I  so  narrowly  escaped.  I  then  agreed 
with  Chinnohete  in  condemning  this  as  a  bad  custom,  and  an 
exceedingly  .immodest  action  for  young  women  to  be  guilty  of. 

From  our  sugar  camp  on  the  head  waters  of  Big  Beaver 
creek  to  this  place  is  not  hilly.  In  some  places  the  woods  are 
tolerably  clear,  but  in  most  places  exceedingly  brushy.  The 
land  here  is  chiefly  second  and  third  rate.-  The  timber  on  the 
upland  is  white  oak,  black  oak,  hickory,  and  chesnut.  There 
is  also  in  some  places  walnut  upland,  and  plenty  of  gd^  water. 
The  bottoms  here  are  generally  large  aod  good. 

We  again  proceeded  on  from  the  pond  to  the  forks  of  Caya« 
haga,  at  the  rate  of  about  five  miles  per  day. 

The  land  on  this  route  is  not  v^ry  hilly;  it  is  w^ll  watered, 
and  in  many  places  ill  timbered,  generally  brushy,  and  chiefly 
second  and  third  rate  land,  intermixed  with  good  bottoms. 

When  we  came  to  the  forks,  we  found  J^at  the  skins  we  had 
scafiblded  were  all  safe.     Thougjh  this  was  a  public  place,  and 
Indians  frequently  passing,  and  mir  skins  hanging  up  in  view, 
yet  there  were  none  stolen.     And  it  is  seldom  that  Indians  do 
steal  any  thing  from  one  another.     And  they  say  they  never     , 
did,  until  the  while  people  came  among  them,  and  learnect|^« 
some  of  them  to  lie,  cheat,  and  steal;  but  be  that  as  it  may'^" 
they  never  did  curse  or  swear  until  the  whites  learned  them.. 
Some  think  their  language  will  not  admit  of  it,  but  I  am  not 
of  that  opinion.     If  I  was  so  disposed,  I  could  find  langua|fQ^ 
to  curse  or  swear  in  the  Indian  tongue.  a 

I  remember  that  Tecaughretanego,  when  something  displeas- 
ed him,  said,  God  damn  it.  I  asked  him  if  he  kffew  what^he 
then  said.  He  said  he  did,  and  mentioned  one  of  their  t^grad-  > 
ing  expressions,  which  he  supposed  to  be  the  meaning  or 
something  like  the  meaning  of  what  he  had  said.  Ilold  him. 
19 


.!!.    ' 


Iff   *, 


\  •^■ 


218 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


% 


m 


that  it  did  not  bear  the  least  resemblance  to  it ;  that  what  he 
had  said  was  calling  upon  the  Great  Spirit  to  punish  the  object 
he  was  displeased  with.  He  stood  for  some  time  amazed,  and 
then  said,  if  this  be  the  meaning  of  these  words,  what  sort  of 
people  are  the  whites?  ^When  the  traders  were  among  us, 
these  words  seemed  to  he  intermixed  with  all  their  discourse. 
He  told  me  to  reconsider  what  I  had  said,  for  he  thought  I 
must  be  mistaken  in  my  definition.-  If  I  was  not  mistaken,  he 
said,  the  traders  applied  these  wordb  not  only  wickedly,  but 
oftentimes  vtry  foolishly  and  contrary  to  sense  or  reason.  He 
said  he  remembered  once  of  a  trader's  accidentally  breaking 
his  gun-lock,  and  on  that  occasion  calling  out  aloud,  God  damn 
it ;  surely,  said  he,  the  gun^ck  was  not  an  object  worthy  of 
punishment  for  Owaneeyo^  or  tite  Great  Spirit.  He  also  ob- 
served the  traders  often  used  this  expression  when  th^  wevr  in 
a  good  humor,  and  not  displeased  with  any  thing.  I  acknow- 
ledged that  the  traders  used  this  expression  very  often,  xn  a 
most  irrational,  incoi^sistent,  and  impious  manner ;  yet  1  still 
asserted  that  I  had  given  the  true  meaning  of  these  words. 
He  replied,  if  so,  the  traders  are  as  bad  as  Oon-dsahroona,  or 
the  under  ground  inhabitants,  which  is  the  name  they  give  the 
devils,  as  they  entertain  a  notion  that  their  place  of  residence 
18  under  the  earth. 

*  We  tibk  up  our  birch-bark  canoes  which  w«*  had  buried,  and 

foil^nd  that  they  were  not  damaged  by  the-  winter ;  but  they 

V    not  being  sufficient  to  carry  all  that  we  now  had-,  we  made  a 

-uar|;e  chesnut-bark  canoe,  as  elm  bark  was  not  to  be  found  at 

this  place.  ■^- ,  ■■■^:,  ■\!;^'''.y  ^c^^  7'ir.,.    »•'•     //■'^■&     *    • 

*        We  all  embarked,  and  had  a  very  agreeable  "passage  down 

^   the  Gayahaga,*lind  along  the  south  *side  of  lake  Erie,  until 

we  passed  the  mouth  of  Sandusky  ;  then  the  wind  arose,  and 

fe  put  in  at  the  mouth  of- the  Miami  of  the  lake,  at  Cedar 
oint,  where  we  femained  ^PFerafdays,  and  killed  a  number 
of  turkeys,  geese,  duck»,  and  swans.  The  wind  being  fair, 
.  and  ihe  lake  not  extremely  rough,  we  again  embarked,  hoisted 
#  '  *^  sails,  and  arrived  safe  at  the  Wyandot  town,  nearly  oppo- 
site to  fprt  Detroit,  on  the  north  side  of  the  river.  Here  we 
found  a  numbev»of  French  traders,  every  one  very  willing  to 
deal  with  us  for  our  beaver. 

tWe  bought  ourselves  fine  clothes,  ammunition,  paint,  tobacco, 
.,and,  msordmg  1i)  promise,  they  purchased  me  a  new  gun; 
yet  wtp  hwr  parted  with  only  about  one  third  of  our  beaver. 
At  length  a%ad4|f  came  to  town  with  French  brandy ;  we  pur- 
chraed  a  keg  of  it,  and  held  a  couii-^il  about  who  was  to  get 
drunk  and  who  was  to  keep  sober.  I  was  invited  to  get  drunk, 
but  I  refused  the  proposal ;  then  they  told  me  that  I  must  be 


li 


J0 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


219 


,  what  he 

the  object 

azed,  and 

at  sort  of 

mong  us, 

discourse. 

thought  I 

staken,  he 

kedly,  but 

ison.     He 

f  breaking 

God  damn 
worthy  of 

[e  also  ob- 

ley  wevt  in 
1  acknow- 
often,  xn  a 
yet  1  still 

lese  words. 

ahroona,  or 

ley  give  the 

)f  residence 

buried,  and 
but  they 
we  made  a 
be  found  at 

ssage  down 
Erie,  until 
i  arose,  and 
e,  at  Cedar 
id  a  number 
being  fair, 
ced,  hoisted 
learly  oppo- 
Here  we 
willing  to 

Lint,  tobacco, 
[anew  gun; 
|ouT  beaver. 
Jy ;  we  pur- 
was  to  get 
Jo  get  drunk, 
[t  1  must  be 


one  of  those  who  were  to  take  care  of  the  drunken  people.  I 
did  not  like  this  ;  but  of  two  evils  I  chose  that  which  I  thought , 
was  the  least — and  fell  in  with  those  who.  were  to  conceal  the 
arms,  and  keep  every  dangerous  weapon  we  could  out  of  their 
way,  and  endeavor,  if  possible,  to  keiep  the  drinking  club  from 
killing  each  other,  which  was  a  ver^'hard  task.  Several  times 
we  hazarded  our  own  lives,^  and  got  Ourselves  hurt,  in  prevent- 
ing them  from  slaying  eacji  other.  •  Before  they  had  finished 
this  keg,  near  one  third  of  the  town  was  introduced  to  this 
drinking  club;  they  could  not  pay  their  part,  as  they  had 
already  disposed  of  all  their  skins  t  but  that  made  no  odds — all 
were  welcome  to  drink. 

When  they  were  done  with  th^  keg,  they  applied  to  the  tra- 
ders, and  procured  a  kettle^ull  of  brandy  at  a  time,  which 
they  divided  out  with  a  large  wooden  spoon  ;  and  so  they 
went  on,  and  never  quit  while  they  had  a  ftingle  beaver  skin. 

When  the  trader  had  got  all  our  beaver,  he  moved  off  to  the 
Ottawa  town,  about  a  mile  above  the  Wyandot  town. 

When  the  brandy  was  gone,  and  the  drinking  club  sober, 
they  appeared  much  dejected.  Some  of  them  were  crippled, 
others  badly  wounded,  a  numbipr  of  their  fine  new  shirts  tore, 
and  several  blankets  were  burned.  A  number  of  squaws  were 
also  in  this  club,  and  neglected  their  corn-planting. 

We  could  now  hear  the  effects  of  the  brandy  in  tl;j||  Otta!|ra 
town.  They  were  singing  and  yelling  in  the  most  hideotM, 
manner,  both  night  and  day  ;  but  their  frolic  ended  worse  ^mn 
ours :  five  Ottawas  were  killed  and  a  great  many  woundej.  .  : 

After  this  a  number  of  young  Indians  were  getting  their 
ears  cut,  and  they  urged  me  to  have  mine  cut  likewise,  but 
they  did  not  attempt  to^ttcompel  me,  .though  Aey  endeavored 
to  persuade  me.  The  principal  argument^  they  used  were, 
its  being  a  very  great  ornameTit,  and  also*  the  common  fash- 
ion. The  former  1  did  mt  b||ieve,  and  <the  latter  I  couM 
not  denj.  The  way  they  performed  this  operation  was  by 
cutting  the  fleshy  part  of  the  circle  of  thg.  ear,  clq^e  to  the 
gristle,  quite  through.  When  this  was  done  they  wrapt.  TOgf  ^ 
round  this  fleshy  part  until  it  was  entirely  healed ;  they  ^ittlOi 
hung  lead  to  it,  and  stretched  it  to  a  wonder^l  length :  wt^n 
it  was  sufficiently  stretched,  they  wrapped  the lleshy  part  round 
with  brass  wire,  which  formed  it  into  a  pemicircle  about  £uf 
inches  diameter.  t^  ^^^ 

Many  of  the  young  men  were  now  exercising  tHphiselves  in 
a  game  resembling   foot-ball,  though   they-^comiadonly  struck  » 
the  ball  with  a  crooked  stick  made  for  thai  purpose ;  ako  a  ^ 
game  something  like  this,  wherein  they  used  a  woodih  ball, 
about  three  inches  diameter,  and  the  instrument  they  moved  it 


.., 


4* 


# 


* 


220 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


# 


•,<- 


with  was  a  strong  staff,  about  five  feel  long,  with  a  hoop  net  on 
the  end  of  it  large  enough  to  contain  the  ball.  Before  they 
begin  the  play,  thejf,  lay  ofT  about  half  a  mile  distoncc  in  a 
clear  plain,  and  the  opposite  parties  all  attend  at  the  centre, 
where  a  disinterested  person  casts  up  the  ball,  then  the  oppo- 
site parties  all  contend  forlt.  If  any  one  gets  it  into  his  net, 
he  runs  with  it  the  way  he  wishes  it  to  go,  and  they  all  pursue 
him.  If  one  of  the  opposite  party  overtakes  the  person  with 
the  ball,  he  gives  the  staff  a  stroke,  which  causes  the  ball  to 
fly  out  of  the  net ;  then  they  have  another  debate  for  it,  and  if 
the  one  that  gets  it  can  outrun  all  the  opposite  party,  and  can 
carry  it  quite  out,  or  over  the  line  at  the  end,  the  game  is  won  ; 
but  this  seldom  happens.  When  any  one  is  running  away 
with  the  ball,  and  is  likpjiy  to  be  overtaken,  he  commonly 
throws  it,  and  with  this  instrument  can  cast  it  fifty  or  sixty 
yards.  Sometimes  "when  the  ball  is  almost  at  the  one  end, 
matters  will  take  a  sudden  turn,  and  the  opposite  party  may 
quickly  carry  it  out  at  the  other  end.  Oftentimes  they  will 
work  a  long  while  back  and  forward  before  they  can  get  the 
ball  over  the  line,  or  win  the  game. 

About  the  Ist  of  June,  1757,  the  warriors  were  preparing  to 
go  16  war,  in  the  Wyandot,  Pottowatomy,  and  Ottawa  towns ; 
also'a  great  many  Jibewas  came  down  from  the  upper  lakes ; 
fl4it  after'  singing  their  war-songs,  and  going  through  their 
common  ceremonies,  they  marched  off  against  the  frontiers  of 
Virginia,  Maryland,  and  Pennsylvania,  in  their  usua^>  mariner, 
singing  the  travelling  song,  slow  firing,  &c. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  opposite  to 
fort  Detroit,  there  is  an  island,  which  the  Indians  call  the 
Long  Island,  and  which  they  say  is  above  one  thousand  miles 
long,  and  in  some  places  above  one  hundred  miles  broad. 
They  further  say  that  the  great  river  that  comes  down  by  Can- 
Watauga,  and  that  empties  inl»''the''  main  branch  of  St,  Law- 
rence, above*  Montreal,  originates  from  one  source  with  the  St, 

%,    Lawrence,  and  fornix  this  island, 

5j5!v  v   Opposite  to  Detroit,  and  below  it,  was  originally  a  prairie, 

,  '  and  laid  off  in  lots  about  sixty  rods  broad,  and  a  great  length ; 

each  lot  is  divided  into  two  fields,  which  they  cultivate  year 

about.     The  principal  grain   that  the  French  raised  iYi  these 

fidbis  was  spring  wheat  and  peas. 

ifl        Tb#y  buUt  all  the!*  houses  on  the  front  of  these  lots  on  the 

'  river^side  j^nd  .as  the  banks  of  the  river  are  very  low,  some 
of  the'houses  ar^jiflrt  above  three  or  four  feet  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  water;  yet  they  are  in  no  danger  of  being  disturb- 
ed by  fleshets,  as  the  river  seldom  rises  above  eighteen  inches; 


■# 


m 


» 


)  net  on 
re  they 
cc  in  a 

centre, 
e  oppo- 

his  net, 
I  pursue 
ion  with 
le  ball  to 
it,  and  if 
and  can 
i  is  won ; 
ng  away 
ommonly 

or  sixty 

one  end, 
(arty  may 

they  will 
n  get  the 

sparing  to 
m  towns; 
per  lakes; 
(Ugh  their 
rontiers  of 
[\  marttier, 

ipposite  to 
Is  call  the 
sand  miles 
les  broad, 
rn  by  Can" 
I  St.  LaW" 
[ith  the  St, 

a  prairie, 
jjat  length ; 
(ivate  year 
Id  'tci  these 

llots  on  the 

low,  some 

ve  the  sur- 

ig  disturb- 

^en  inches; 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


321 


'V. 


because  it  is  the  communication  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence, 
from  one  lake  to  another. 

As  dwelling-houses,  barns  and  stables  are  all  built  on  the 
front  of  ihese  lots,  at  a  distance  it  appears^ike  a  continued  row 
of  houses  in  a  town,  on  each  side  of  the  river,  for  a  long  way. 
These  villages,  the  town,  the  river  «nd  the  plains,  being  all  in 
view  at  once,  afford  a  most  delightful  prospect. 

The  inhabitants  here  chiefly  drink  the  river  water  ;  and  as 
it  comes  from  the  northward,  it  is  very  wholesome. 

The  land  here  is  principally  second  rate,  and,  comparatively 
speaking,  a  small  part  is  ^rst  or  third  rate  ;  though  about  four 
or  five  miles  south  of  Detroit  there  is  a  small  portion  that  is 
worse  than  what  I  would  call  third  rate,  which  produces  abun- 
dance of  whortleberries. 

There  is  plenty  of  good  meado\^  ground  here,  and  a  great 
many  marshes  that  are  overspread  with  water.  The  timber  is 
elm,  sugar-tree,  black  ash,  white  ash,  abundance  of  water  ash, 
oak,  hickory,  and  some  walnut. 

About  the  middle  of  June,  the  Indians  were  almost  all  gone 
to  war,  from  sixteen  to  sixty ;  yet  Tecaughretanego  remained 
in  town  with  me.  Though  he  had  formerly,  when  they  were 
at  war  with  the  southern  nations,  been  a  great  warrior  and  an 
eminent  counsellor,  and  I  think  as  clear  and  able  a  reasoner 
upon  any  subject  that  he  had  an  opportunity  of  being  amuau||* 
ed  with  as  I  ever  knew ;  yet  he  had  all  along  been  tt|^inBt 
this  war,  and  had  strenuously  opposed  it  in  council.  He  said^ 
if  the  English  and  French  had  a  quarrel,  let  them  fight  Hheir 
own  battles  themselves ;  it  is  not  our  business  to  intermeddle 
therewith. 

Before  the  warriors  returned,  we  were  very  scarce  of  pro- 
visir  n ,  and  though  we  did  not  commonly  steal  from  one 
anotaer,  yet  we  stole  during  this  time  any  thing  that  we  could 
eat  from  the  French,  under  th^^otion  that  it  was  just  for  vm 
to  do  so,  because  they  supported  their  soldiers;  and  our  squaws, 
eld  men  and  children  were  suffering  on  |jhe  account  of  the 
war,  as  our  hunters  were  all  gone. 

Some  time  in  August,  the  warriors  returned,  and  brought  in 
with  them  a  great  many  scalps,  prisoners,  horses  and  plunder ; 
and  the  common  report  among  the  young  warriors  was,  that 
they  would  entirely  subdue  Tulhasaga,  that  is  the  Engli  ' 
or  it  might  be  literally  rendered  the  Mwning  Light  iii^a^ 
ants.  '    9t       "■ 

About  the  first  of  November,  a  numhat  bf  femUies  were 

preparing  to  go  on  their  winter  hunt,  ancj'ml  agreed  to  cross 

the  lake  together.     We  encamped  at  the  mouth  of  tlie  river 

the  first  night,  and  a  council  was  held,  whether  we  should 

19* 


It 

i 

1(11 


J 

''i 


^  # 


r* 


? 


k*. 


f 


222 


'^^■' 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


W:: 


cross  through  by  the  three  islands,  or  coast  it  round  the  lake. 
These  islands  lie  in  a  line  across  the  lake,  and  are  just  in  sight 
of  each  other.  Some  of  the  Wyandots,  or  Ottawas,  frequent- 
ly make  their  winter  hunt  on  these  islands ;  though,  except- 
ing wild  fowl  and  fish,  there  is  scarcely  any  game  here  but 
raccoons,  which  are  amazingly  plenty,  and  exceedingly  large 
and  ftit,  as  they  feed  upon  the  wild  rice,  which  grows  in 
abundance  in  wet  places  round  «these  islands.  It  is  said  that 
each  hunter,  in  one  winter,  will  catch  one  thousand  raccoons. 

It  is  a  received  opinion  among  the  Indians  that  the  snakes 
and  raccoons  are  transmigratory,  and  that  a  great  many  of  the 
snakes  turn  raccoons  every  fall,  and  raccoons  snakes  every 
spring.  This  notion  is  founded  on  observations  made  on  the 
snakes  and  raccoons  in  this  island. 

As  the  raccoons  here  lodge  in  rocks,  the  trappers  make  their 
wooden  traps  at  the*inouth  of  the  holes  ;  and  as  they  go  daily 
to  look  at  their  traps,  in  the  winter  season,  they  commonly  find 
them  filled  with  raccoons ;  but  in  the  spring,  or  when  the  frost 
•is  out  of  the  ground,  they  say,  they  then  find  their  traps  filled 
with  large  rattlesnakes ;  and  therefore  conclude  that  the  rac- 
coons are  transforaied.  They  also  say  that  the  reason  why 
they  are  so  remarkably  plenty  in  the  winter,  is,  every  fall  the 
snakes  turn  raccoons  again.  '"" 


^ 


p«f- 


^ 


|L  told  them  that  though  I  had  never  landed  on  any  of  ihese 
is^ds,  yet,  from  the  unanimoHS  accounts  I  had  received,  I 
believed  that  both  snakes  and  raccoons  were  plenty  there?  but 
no  doubt  they  all  remained  there  both  summer  and  winter, 
only  the  snakes  were  not  to  be  seen  in  the  latter ;  yet  I  Aid 
not  believe  that  they  were  transmigratory.  ^  * 

These  islands  are  but  seldom  visited ;  because  early  in  the 
spring,  and  late  in  the  fall,  it  is  dangerous  sailing  in  their  bark 
cano3s ;  and  in  the  summer  they  are  so  infested  with  varipus 
kinds  of  serpents,  (but  chiefly  tptlesnakes,)  that  it  is  danger- 
ous l!anding. 

*:  I  shall  now  quibfMiis  digression,  and  return  to  the  result  of 
the  council  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  We  concluded  to  coast 
it  round  the  lake,  and  in  two  days  we  came  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Miami  of  the  Lake,  and  landed  on  Cedar  Point,  where  we 
remained  several  days.  Here  we  held  a  council,  and  con- 
cl^et  we  would  take  a  driving  hunt  in  concert  and  in  part- 
nersl^.  .^ 

The  rivedin  thisplace  is  about  a  mile  broad,  and  as  it  and 
the  U^  forms  a  UK  of  neck,  which  terminates  in  a  point,  all 
the  hunters  (whifli^ere  fifty-three)  went  up  the.  river,  and 
We  scattered  ourselves  from  the  river  to  the  lake.  When  we 
first  begatii  to  move  we  were  not  in  sight  of  each  other,  but  as 


Xili 


he  lake, 
in  sight 
requent- 
except- 
lere  but 
jly  large 
prows  in 
said  that 
iccoons. 
le  snakes 
ny  of  the 
es  every 
le  on  the 

lake  their 
f  go  daily 
nonly  find 
[1  the  frost 
raps  filled 
It  the  rac- 
»ason  why 
,ry  fall  the 

y  of  these 
•eceived,  1 
there?  but 
I  winter, 
yet  I  Aid 

arly  in  the 
their  bark 
th  varipus 
is  danger- 

,e  result  of 
ed  to  coast 
mouth  of 
where  we 
and  con- 
id  in  part- 


as  it  and 

a  point,  all 

.river,  and 

When  we 

Iher,  but  as 


% 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


223 


we  all  raised  the  yell,  we  could  move  regularly  together  by 
the  noise.  At  length  we  came  in  sight  of  each  other,  and 
appeared  to  be  marching  in  good  order ;  before  we  came  to 
the  point,  both  the  squaws  and  boys  in  the  canoes  were  scat- 
tered up  the  river  and  along  the  lake,  to  prevent  the  deer  from 
making  their  escape  by  water.  As  we  advanced  near  the  point 
the  guns  began  to  crack  slowly,  and  after  some  time  the  fir- 
ing was  like  a  little  engagement.  The  squaws  and  boys  were 
busy  tomahawking  the  deer  in  the  water,  and  we  shooting 
them  down  on  the  land.  We  killed  in  all  about  thirty  deer^ 
though  a  great  many  made  their  escape  by  water. 

We  had  now  great  feasting  and  rejoicing,  t^s  we  had  plenty 
of  homony,  venison  and  wild  fowl.  The  geese  at  this  time 
appeared  to  be  preparing  to  move  southward.  It  &ight  be 
asked  what  is  meant  by  the  geese  preparing  to  move.  The 
Indians  represent  them  as  holding  a  greatiSN^ouncil  at  this  time 
concerning  the  weather,  in  order  to  conclude  upon  a  day,  that 
they  may  all  at  or  near  one  time  leave  the  northern  lakes,  and 
wing  their  way  to  the  Southern  bays.  When  matters  are 
brought  to  a  conclusion,  and  the  time  appointed  that  they  are 
to  take  wing,  then  they  say  a  great  number  of  expresses  are 
sent  ofT,  in  order  to  let  the  different  tribes  know  the  result  of 
this  council,  that  they  may  ]je  all  in  readiness  to  move  St  the 
time  appointed.  As  there  is  a  great  commotion  among  Uj^ 
geese  at  this  time,  it  would  appear  by  their  actions  that  su^ 
a  council  had  been  held.  Certain  it  is  that  they  are  led  by 
instinct  to  act  in  concert,  and  to  move  off  regularly  after  their 
leaders.  ♦  ;^ 

*  Here  our  company  separated.  The  chief  part  of  them  went 
up  the  Miami  river,  which  empties  into  lake  Erie  at  Cedar 
Point,  whilst  we  proceeded  on  our  journey  in  company  with 
Tecaughretanego,  Tontileaug(vand  two  families  of  the  Wyan* 
dots'.  ip 

As  cold  weather  was  now  approaching,  we  began  to  feel 
the  doleful  effects  of  extravagantly  and  foolishly  spending  the 
large  quantity  of  beaver  we  had  taken  in  our  last  winter's 
hunt.  ,  We  were  all  nearly  in  the  same  circumstances ;  scalce- 
ly  one  had  a  shirt  to  his  back ;  l^ut  each  of  us  had  an  old, 
blanket,  which  we  belted  round  us  in  the  day,  and  slept,  in  at 
night,  with  a  deer  or  bear  skin  under  us  for  our  bed.  ^ 

When  we  came  to  the  falls  of  San^jtisky,  we  buri^ottr 
birch-bark  canoes,  as  usual,  at  a  large  burying-pitoe  foTthfi 
purpose,  a  little  below  the  falls.  At  thuMace  the  river  faSb 
about  eight  feet  over  a  rock,  but  not  pe^inicQlarly.  Wij^ 
much  difficulty  we  pushed  up  our  wooden  canoes;  some  of*v& 
went  up  the  river,  and  the  rest  by  land  with  the  honesi  uhtil 

■A 


■# 


^. 


224 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


. 


T> 


we  came  to  the  great  meadows  or  prairies,  that  lie  between 
Sandusky  and  Sciota. 

When  we  came  to  this  place,  we  met  with  some  Ottawa 
hunters,  and  agreed  with  them  tu  take  what  they  call  a  ring 
hunt,  in  partnership.  We  waited  until  we  expected  rain  was 
near  falling  to  extinguish  the  fire,  apd  then  we  kindled  a  large 
circle  in  the  prairie.  At  this  time,  or  before  the  bucks  began 
to  run,  a  great  number  of  deer  lay  concealed  in  the  grass,  in 
the  day,  and  moved  about  in  the  night ;  but  as  the  fire  burned 
in  towards  the  centre  of  the  circle,  the  deer  fled  before  the  fire ; 
the  Indians  were  scattered  also  at  some  distance  before  tne  fire, 
and  shot  them  down  every  opportunity,  which  was  very  fre- 
quent, especially  as  the  circle  became  small.  When  we  came 
to  divide  the  deer,  there  were  about  ten  to  each  hunter,  which 
were  all  killed  in  a  few  hours.  The  rain  did  not  come  on  that 
night  to  put  out  the  outside  circle  of  the  fire,  and  as  the  wind 
arose,  it  extended  through  the  whole  prairie,  which  was  about 
fifty  miles  in  length,  and  in  some  places  nearly  twenty  in 
breadth.  This  put  an  end  to  our  ring  huniing  this  season,  and 
was  in  other  respects  an  injury  to  us  in  the  hunting  business ; 
80  that  upon  the  whole  we  received  more  harm  than  benefit 
by  our  rapid  hunting  frolic.  We  then  moved  from  the  north 
end  #f  the  glades,  and  encamped  at  the  carrying  place. 

This  place  is  in  the  plains,  betwixt  a  creek  that  empties  into 
Sandusky  and  one  that  -^runs  into  Sciota.  And  at  the  time  of 
hSgh  water,  or  in  the  spring  season,  there  is  but  about  one  half 
mile  of  portage,  and  that  very  level,  and  clea'*  of  rocks,  timber, 
or  stones ;  so  that  with  a  little  diggiiig  there  may  be  water 
carriage  the  whole  way  from  Sciota  to  lake  Erie. 
.  From  the  mouth  of  Sandusky  to  the  falfs  is  chiefly  first  rate 
land,  lying  flat  or  level,  intermixed  with  large  bodies  of  clear 
meadows,  where  the  grass  is  exceedingly  rank,  and  in  many 
places  thret  or  four  feet  higb^,,  The  timber  is  oak,  hickory, 
walnut,  cherry,  black  ash,  elm,  sugar-tree,  buckeye,  locust  and 

♦  beech.     In  some  places  there  is  wet  timber  land — the  timber 

in  these  places  is  chiefly  water  ash,  sycamore,  or  button-wood. 

From  the  falls  to  the  prairies,  the  land  lies  well  to  the  sun ; 

it  is  neither  too  flat  nor  too  hilly,  and  is  chiefly  first  rate;  the 

'timber  nearly  the  same  asoelow  the  falls,  excepting  the  water 
ash.  *  There  is  also  here  some  plats  of  beech  land,  that  appears 
to  jb^fiacond  rate,  as  it  frequently  produces  spice-wood.  Che 
praim  apu^ars  to  be  a  tolerably  fertile  soil,  though  in  n^any 

Slacffe  too  wet  for^ultivation  ;  yet  I  apprehend  it  would  pro- 
uce  timber,  werd|P^nly  kept  from  fire. 

The  Indians  are  of  the  opinion  that  the  squirrels  plant  all 
th#  timbipr,  as  they  bury  a  number  of  nuts  for  food,  and  only 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


225 


between 

Ottawa 
,11  a  ring 
rain  was 
i  a  large 
ks  began 
grass,  in 
e  burned 
J  the  fire ; 
e  tne  fire, 
very  fre- 
we  came 
er,  which 
le  on  that 
,  the  wind 
was  about 
twenty  in 
sason,  and 
business ; 
lan  benefit 
L  the  north 
Lce. 

npties  into 
he  time  of 
t  one  half 
s,  timber, 
be  water 

y  first  rate 
les  of  clear 
in  many 
.,  hickory, 
I  locust  and 
the  timber 
Itlon-wood. 
[o  the  sun ; 
rate;  the 
the  water 
Lt  appepi's 
lood.      Che 
Ih  in  n-any 
Iwould  pro- 

jls  plant  all 
I,  and  only 


one  at  a  place.     When  a  squirrel  is  killed,  the  various  kinds 
of  nuts  thus  buried  will  grow. 

I  have  observed  that  when  these  prairies  have  only  escaped 
fire  for  one  year,  near  where  a  single  tree  stood  there  was  a 
young  growth  of  timber  supposed  to  be  planted  by  the  squir- 
rels. But  when  the  prairies  were  again  burned,  all  this  young 
growth  was  immediately  consumed ;  as  the  fire  rages  in  the 
grass  to  such  a  pitch,  that  numbers  of  raccoons  are  thereby 
burned  to  death. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  prairie,  or  betwixt  that  and  Sciota, 
there  is  a  large  body  of  first  rate  land — the  timber,  walnut,  lo- 
cust, sugar-tree,  buckeye,  cherry,  ash,  elm,  mulberry,  plum-trees, 
spice-wood,  black  haw,  red  haw,  oak,  and  hickory. 

About  the  time  the  bucks  quit  running,  Tontileaugo,  his  wife 
and  children,  Tecaughretanego,  his  son  Nunganey  and  myself, 
left  the  Wyandot  camps  at  the  carrying  place,  and  crossed  the 
Sciota  river  at  the  south  end  of  the  glades,  and  proceeded  on 
about  a  south-w^est  course  to  a  large  creek  called  Ollentangy, 
which  I  believe  interlocks  with  the  waters  of  the  Miami,  and 
empties  into  Sciota  on  the  west  side  thereof.  From  the  south 
end  of  the  prairie  to  Ollentangy  there  is  a  large  quantity  of 
beech  land,  intermixed  with  first  rate  land.  Here  we  Jjaade 
our  winter  hut,  and  had  considerable  success  in  hunting. 

After  some  time,  one  of  Tontileaugo's  step-sons  (a  lad  abof^it 
eight  years  of  age)  offended  him,  and  he  gave  the  boy  a  modf)" 
rate  whipping,  which  much  displeased  his  Wyandot  wife.  She 
acknowledged  that  the  boy  was  guilty  of  a  fault,  but  thought 
that  he  ought  to  have  been  ducked,  which  is  their  usual  mode, 
of  chastisement.  She  said  she  could  not  bear  to  have  hsr  son 
whij.ped  like  a  servant  or  slave ;  and  she  wus  so  displeased, 
that  when  Tontileaugo  went  out  to  h':nt,  she  got  her  two 
horses,  and  all  her  effects,  (as  in  this  country  the  husband  and 
wife  have  separate  interests,)  atfd  moved  baclf  to  tRe  Wyj^ndot 
camp  that  we  had  left. 

'Vhen  Tontileaugo  returned,  he  was  much  disturbed  on 
hearing  of  his  wife's  eloppment,  and  said  that  he  would  never 
go  after  her,  were  it  not  that  he  was  afraid  that  she  would  get 
bewildered,  and  that  his  children  that  she  had  taken  with  her 
might  suffer.  Tontileaugo  went  after  his  wife,  and  whenjhey' 
met  they  made  up  the  quarrel ;  and  believer  returned,  but  left 
Tecaughretanego  and  his  son,  (a  boy  about  ten  years  of||gie,) 
and  myself,  who  remained  here  in  our  hut  all  winter. 

Tecaughretanego  had  been  a  first-rat(ywavrior,  statesman-^ 
and  hunter,  and  though  he  wa?  now  neaPiixty  y^s  of  age, 
was  yet  equal  to  the  common  run  of  hunters,  but  subject  to 
the  rheumatism,  which  deprived  him  of  the  use  of  his  legs. 


S5'- 


^ 


226 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


m 


j     ^•'•- 


fMi^^s^^ 


Shortly  after  Tontileaugo  left  us,  Tecaughretanego  became 
lame,  and  could  scarcely  walk  out  of  our  hut  for  two  months. 
I  had  considerable  success  in  hunting  and  trapping.  Though 
Tecaughretanego  endured  much  pain  and  misery,  yet  he  bore 
it  all  with  wonderful  patience,  and  would  often  endeavor  to 
entertain  me  with  cheerful  conversation.  Sometimes  he  would 
applaud  me  for  my  diligence,  skill  and  activity  ;  and  at. other 
times  he  would  take  great  care  in  giving  me  instructions  con- 
cerning the  hunting  and  trapping  business.  He  would  also 
tell  me  that  if  I  failed  of  success  we  would  suffer  very  much, 
as  we  were  about  forty  miles  from  any  one  living,  that  we  knew 
of;  yet  he  would  not  intimate  that  he  apprehended  we  were  in 
any  danger,  but  still  supposed  that  I  Was  fully  adequate  to  the 
task. 

Tontileaugo  left  us  a  little  before  Christmas,  and  from  that 
until  some  time  irt  Fehruary  we  had  always  plenty  of  bear 
meat,  venison,  &c.  During  this  time  I  killed  much  more  than 
we  could  use,  but  having  no  horses  to  carry  in  what  I  killed,  I 
left 'part  of  it  in  the  woods.  In  February,  there  came  a  snow, 
with  a  crust,  which  made  a  great  noise  when  walking  on  it, 
and  frightened  away  the  deer ;  and  as  bear  and  beaver  were 
scarce  here,  we  got  entirely  out  of  provision.  After  I  had 
hunte^d  tv/o  days,  without  eating  any  thing,  and  had  very  short 
aUowance  for  some  days  before,  I  returned  late  in  the  evening, 
ipp  faipt  and  weary.     When  I  came  into  our  hut,  Tecaughretane- 

fo  asked  what  success,     t  told  him  not  any.     He  asked  me  if 
was  not  very  hungry.     I  replied  that  the  keen  appetite  seem- 
ed to  be  in  some  measure  removed,  but  I  was  both  faint  and 
weary.     He  commanded  Nunganey,  his  little  son,  to  bring  me 
something  to  eat,  and  he  brought  me  a  kettle  with  some  bones 
and  broth.    After  eating  a  few  mouthfuls,  my  appetite  violently 
returned,  and  I  thought  the  victuals  had  a  most  agreeable  rel- 
ish, though?«^it  was  only  fox  aniil  wildcat  bones,  which  lay  about 
the  camp.,  which  the  ravens  and  turkey-buzzards  had  picked ; 
*  these  Nunga  lOy  had  collected  and  boiled,  until  the  sinews  that 
remained  on  the  bones  would  strip,  off".     I  speedily  finished 
my  allowance,  such  as  it  was,  and  when  I  had  ended  my  sweet 
.repast,  Tecaughretanego  Mked  me  how  I  felt.     I  told  him  that 
Tf  wasmuch refreshed.    H^then  handed  me  his  pipe  and  pouch, 
,,  aiK^^Rld  m'fe  to  take  a  smok'S.     I  did  so.     He  then  said  he  had 
80|||fl|hing  of  importance  to  tell  me,  if  I  was  now  composed 
and  ready  to  hear  it.     I  told  him  that  I  was  ready  to  hear  him. 
s     He  6iiid  the  retsMBLwhy  he  deferred  his  speech  till  now  v/as 
because  ft»w  men  we  in  a  right  humor  to  hear  good  talk  when 
they  are  extremely  hungry,  as  they  are  then  generally  fretful 
ana  disccnnposed,  but  as  you  appear  now  to  enjoy  calmnesf 


lecame 
lonths. 
'hough 
le  bore 
ivor  to 
>  would 
it.  other 
ns  con- 
ild  also 
J  much, 
re  knew 
were  in 
,e  to  the 

rom  that 
of  bear 
ore  than 
killed,  I 
a  snow, 
ng  on  it, 
ver  were 
er  I  had 
ery  short 
evening, 
^hretane- 
ed  me  if 
iite  seem- 
faint  and 
[bring  me 
.ie  bones 
violently 
leable  rei- 
ilay  about 
picked; 
ews  that 
finished 
iny  sweet 
him  that 
id  pouch, 
id  he  had 
omposed 
ear  him. 
now  v/as 
Ik  when 
[lly  fretful 
calmnest 


COLONEL  SMITH'S   CAPTIVITY. 


227 


*¥-,- 


and  seienity  of  mind,  I  will  now  communicate  to  you  the 
thoughts  of  my  heart,  and  those  things  that  I  know  to  be  true. 

"  Brother, — As  you  have  lived  with  the  white  people,  you 
have  not  had  the  same  advantage  of  knowing  that  the  great 
Being  above  feeds  his  people,  and  gives  them  their  meat  in  due 
season,  as  we  Indians  have,  who  are  frequently  out  of  provi- 
sions, and  yet  are  wonderfully  supplied,  and  that  so  frequently, 
that  it  is  evidently  the  hand  of  the  greai:  Owaneeyo'*''  that  doth 
this.  Whereas  the  white  people  have  commonly  large  stocks 
of  tame  cattle,  that  they  can  kill  when  they  please,  and  also 
their  barns  and  cribs  filled  with  grain,  and  therefore  have  not 
the  same  opportunity  of  seeing  and  Jcnowing  that  they  are 
supported  by  the  Ruler  of  heaven  and  earth. 

•'  Brother, — I  know  that  you  are  now  afraid  that  we  will  all 
perish  with  hunger,  but  you  have  no  just  reason  to  fear  this. 

*'  Brother, — I  have  been  young,  but  am  now  old ;  I  have 
been  frequently  under  the  like  circumstances  that  we  now  are, 
and  that  some  time  or  other  in  almost  every  year  of  my  life ; 
yet  I  have  hitherto  been  supported,  and  my  wants  supplied  in 
time  of  need. 

"  Brother, — Owaneeyo  sometimes  suffers  us  to  be  in  want, 
in  order  to  teach  us  our  dependence  upon  him,  and  to  ]pt  us 
know  that  we  are  to  love  and  serve  him ;  and  likewise  to  know 
the  worth  of  the  favors  that  we  receive,  and  to  make  us  Ibore 
thankful.  ,  ,      p>    S 

"  Brother, — Be  assured  that  you  will  be  supplied  with  fqod, 
and  that  just  in  the  right  time  ;  but  you  must  continue  diligent 
in  the  use  of  means.  Go  to  sleep,  and  rise  early  in  the  morn- 
ing and  go  a  hunting ;  be  strong,  and  exert  yourself  like  a  man, 
and  the  Great  Spirit  will  direct  your  way." 

The  next  morning  I  went  out,  and  steered  about  an  east 
course.     I  proceeded  on  slowly  for  about  five  miks,  and  saw 
deer  frequently ;  but  as  the  ctust  on  the  snow  r^ule  a  great 
noise,  they  were  always  running  before  I  spied  them,  so  that  I  ^ 
could  not  get  a  shot.     A  violent  appetite  returned,  and  I  be- 
came intolerably  hungry.     It  was  now  that  I  concluded  I  would 
run  off  to  Pennsylvania,  my  native  country.     As  the  snow  was 
on  the  ground,  and  In:  !an  hunters  t^feiost  the  whole  of  the  way^ 
before  me,  I  had  but  a  poor  prospect  of  making  my  ^i^aQ||f  l»ul 
my  case  appeared  desperate.     If  I'staid  here,  I  thought  I  would  ■ 
perish  with  hunger,  and  if  I  met  with  Indians  they  couM  wit 
kill  me.  ^ 

I  then  proceeded  on  as  fast  as  I  cjuld  w!|||||£,^nd  when  1  ^t 

*  This  is  the  name  of  Gk)d,  in  their  tongue,  and  signifies  the  owner  ^nd 
rater  of  all  things.  ^ 


il  :i 


iS 


If 


t. 


« 


228 


COLONEIi  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


>  ■'■ 


,1^ 


4 


k 


.;% 


•■*: 


>:;y:  •^%, 


about  ten  or  twelve  miles  from  our  hut,  I  came  upon  fresh 
buffalo  tracks ;  I  pursued  after,  and  in  a  short  time  came  in 
sight  of  them  as  they  were  passing  through  a  small  glade. 
I  ran  with  all  my  might  and  headed  them,  where  I  lay  in  am- 
bush, and  killed  a  very  large  cow.  I  immediately  kindled  a 
fire  and  began  to  roast  meat,  but  could  not  wait  till  it  was  done ; 
I  ate  it  almost  raw.  When  hunger  waa  abated,  I  began  to  be 
tenderly  concerned  for  my  old  Indian  brother  and  the  little  boy 
I  had  left  in  a  perishing  condition.  I  made  haste  and  packed 
up  what  meat  I  could  carry,  secured  what  I  left  from  the  wolves, 
and  returned  homewards. 

I  scarcely  thought  on  the  old  man's  speech  while  I  was 
almost  distracted  with  hunger,  but  on  my  return  was  much 
aflected  with  it,  reflected  on  myself  for  my  hard-heartedness 
and  ingratitude,  in  attempting  to  run  ofT  and  leave  the  venera- 
ble old  man  and  little  boy  to  perish  with  hunger.  I  also  con- 
sidered how  remarkably  the  old  man's  speech  had  been  verified 
in  our  providentially  obtaining  a  supply.  I  thought  also  of 
.„  that  part  of  his  speech  which  treated  of  the  fractious  disposi- 
tions of  hungry  people,  which  was  the  only  excuse  I  had  for 
my  base  inhumanity,  in  attempting  to  leave  them  in  the  most 
deplorable  situation. 

> 'fi     As  it  was  mopnlight,  I  got  home  to  our  hut,  and  found  the 
old  man  in  his  usual  good  humor.     He  thanked  me  for  my 

1^  eji^rtion,  and  bid  me  sit  down,  as  I  must  certainly  be  fatigued, 

and  he  commanded  Nunganey  to  make  haste  and  cook.     I  told 

^him  I  would  cook  for  him,  and  let  the  boy  lay  SQpie*meat  on 

the  coals  for  himself;  which  ho. did,  but  ate  it  almost  raw,  as 

^     I  had  done.     I  immediately  hung  on  the  kettle  with  some  wa- 
ter, and  cut  the  beef  in  thin  slices,  and  put  them  in.     When  it 
?  had  boiled  a  while,  I  proposed  taking  it  off  the  fire,  but  the  old 
man  replied,  "  let  it  be  done  enough."     This  he  said  in  as 
patient  and  unconcerned  a  manner  as  if  he  had  not  wanted 
one  single  meal.     He  commanded  Nunganey  to  eat  no  more 
*  beef  at  that  time,  lest  he  might  hurt  himself,  but  told  him  to 
sit  down,  and  after  some  tim€  he  might  sup  some  broth ;  this 
command  he  feluctantly  obeyed. 
^     When  we  were  all  reffeshed,  Tecaughretanego  delivered  a 
^sppech  upon  the  necessity  and  pleasure  of  receiving  the  neces- 
(lary'lupports  of  life  with  tifankfulness,  knowing  that  0"'anee- 
;    y#i9.  the  great  gi^er.     Such  speeches  from  an  Indian  may  be 
thought  by  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  them  altogether 
incredible ;  bu<i  \^en  we  reflect  on  the  Indian  war,  we  may 
readily  cibclude  that  they  are  not  an  ignorant  or  stupid  sort  of 
people,  or  they  would  not  have  been  such  fatal  enemies.    When 
they  came  into  our  country  ihey  outwitted  us ;  and  when  we 


-Ax- 


■•* 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


229 


pon  fresh 
;  came  in 
ill  glade, 
ly  in  am- 
kindled  a 
vas  done ; 
;gan  to  be 
I  little  boy 
id  packed 
he  wolves, 

die  I  was 
was  much 
eartedness 
he  venera- 
I  also  con- 
;en  verified 
ght  also  of 
)us  disposi- 
e  I  had  for 
in  the  most 

d  found  the 
me  for  my 
be  fatigued, 
)ok.     1  told 
e'meat  on 
[lost  raw,  as 
|h  some  wa- 
.     When  it 
but  the  old 
said  in  as 
not  wanted 
jat  no  more 
Itold  him  to 
broth;  this 

delivered  a 
Ig  the  neces- 
lat  0'"anee- 
lian  may  be 
altogether 
pr,  we  may 
tupid  sort  of 
lies.  When 
id  when  we 


sent  armies  into  their  country,  they  outgeneralled  and  beat  us 
with  inferior  force.  Let  us  also  take  into  consideration  that 
Tecaughretanego  was  no  common  person,  but  was  among  the 
Indians  as  Socrates  in  the  ancient  heathen  world ;  and  it  may 
be  equal  to  him,  if  not  in  wisdom  and  in  learning,  yet  perhaps 
in  patience  and  fortitude.  Notwithstanding  Tecaugnretanego's 
uncommon  natural  abilities,  yet  in  the  sequel  of  this  history 
you  will  see  the  deficiency  of  the  light  of  nature,  unaided  by 
revelation,  in  this  truly  great  man. 

The  next  morning  Tecaughretanego  desired  me  to  go  back 
and  bring  another  load  of  buffalo  beef.  As  I  proceeded  to  do 
so,  about  five  miles  from  our  hut  I  found  a  bear  tree.  As  a 
sapling  grew  near  the  tree,  and  reached  near  the  hole  that  the 
bear  went  in  at,  I  got  dry  dozed  or  rotten  wood,  that  would 
catch  and  hold  fire  almost  as  well  as  spunk.  This  wood  I  tied 
up  in  bunches,  fixed  them  on  my  back,  and  then  climbed  up 
the  sapling,  and  with  a  pole  I  put  them,  touched  with  fire,  into 
the  hole,  and  then  came  down  and  took  my  gun  in  my  hand. 
After  some  time  the  hsar  came  out,  and  I  killed  and  skinned 
it,  packed  up  a  luad  of  the  meat,  (after  securing  the  remainder 
from  the  wolves,)  and  returned  home  bbibre  night.  'On  my 
return,  my  old  brother  and  his  ^on  were  much  rejoiced  at  my 
success.     After  this  we  had  plenty  of  provisi(uis. 

We  remained  here  until  some  time  in  April,  1758.     At  this 
time  Tecaugretanego  had  recovered  so  that  he  could  walk  alx^t.  ^ 
We  made  a  bark  canoe,  embarked,  and  went  down  OUentangy 
some  distance,  but  the  water  being  low,  we  were  in  danger  of ^ 
splitting  oiJ&  canoe  upon  the^  rocks  ;  therefore  Tecaughretan*" 
ego  concluded  we  would  encamp  on  shore,  and  pray  for  rain. 

When  we  encamped  Tecaughretanego  made  himself  a  sweat 
house,  which  he  did  by  sticking  r^.  number  of  hoops  in  the 
ground,  each  hoop  forming  a  semicircle ;  this  he  covered  all 
round  with  blankets  and  skins.  He  then  prspared-^-hot  siones, 
which  he  rolled  into  this  hut,  and  then  went  into  it  himself 
with  a  little  kettle  of  water  in  his  hand,  mixed  with  a  variety 
of  herbs,  which  he  had  formerly  cured,  and  had  now  with  him 
in  his  pack  ;  they  afforded  an  odoriferous  perfume.  When  he 
was  in,  he  told  me  to  pull  down  the,blankets»  behind  him,  and 
cover  all  up  close,  which  I  did,  and  then  he  began  .o  pour 
water  upon  the  hot  stones,  and  t(f^i  g  aloud.  He  continued 
in  this  vehement  hot  place  about  fifteen  minutes.  All  thiaiibe 
did  in  order  to  purify  himself  before  he  would  address  the 
Supreme  Being.  When  he  came  out  of  his  0ive&t  house,  he 
began  to  burn  tobacco  and  pray.  He  began  each  petition  with 
oht  ho,  ho,  ho,  which  is  a  kind  of  aspiration,  and  signifies  an 
aident  wish.  I  observed  that  all  his  petitions  w^re  only  for. 
20 


%. 


'111 

w 

I 
I 


^ 


c'-.i't  vli'':^-      h     V 


VI 


# 


230 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


^ 


^ 


':m 


fvv. 


immediate  or  present  temporal  blessings.     He  began  his  ad- 
dress by  thanksgiving  in  the  following  manner  : 

"  O  Crreat  Being !  I  thank  thee  that  I  have  obtained  the 
use  of  my  legs  again  ;  that  I  am  now  able  to  walk  about  and 
kill  turkeys,  &c.  without  feeling  exquisite  pain  and  misery. 
I  know  that  thou  art  a  heJiirer  and  a  helper,  and  therefore  I  will 
call  upon  thee. 

•'  Oh,  ho,  ho,  ho, 

"  Grant  that  my  knees  and  ankles  may  be  right  well,  and 
that  I  may  be  able,  not  only  to  walk,  but  to  run  and  to  jump 
logs,  as  I  did  last  fall. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  ho,  . 

"  Grant  that  on  this  voyage  we  may  frequently  kill  bears,  as 
they  may  be  crossing  the  Sciota  and  Sandusky. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  ho, 

"  <jrrant  that  we  may  kill  plenty  of  turkeys  along  the  banks, 
to  stew  with  our  fat  bear  meat. 

"  Oh,  ho,  ho,  ho, 
.^  **  Grant  that  rain  may  pome  to  raise  the  Ollentangy  about 
two  or  three  feet,  that  we  may  cross  in  safety  down  to  Sciota, 
without  danger  of  our  canoe  being  wrecked  on  the  rocks. 
And  now,  O  Great  Being!  thou  knowest  how  matters  stand; 
thou  knowest  that  I  am  a  great  lover  of  tobacco,  and  though  I 
know  not  when  I  may  get  any  more,  I  now  make  a  present  of 
th(|  last  I  have  unto  thee,  as  a  free  burnt  offering ;  therefore  I 
expect  thou  wilt  hear  and  grant  these  requests,  and  I,  thy  ser- 
vant, will  return  thee  thanks,  and  love  thee  for  thy  gifts." 

During  the  whole  of  this  scene  I  eat  by  Tecaughretanego, 
and  as  he  went  through  it  with  the  greatest  solemnity,  I  was 
seriously  affected  with  his  prayers.     I  remained  duly  com- 

Eosed  until  he  came  to  the  burning  of  the  tobacco ;  and  as  I 
new  that  he  was  a  great  lover  of  it,  and  saw  him  cast  the  last 
of  it  into  the  fire,  it  excited  in  me  a  kind  of  merriment,  and 
I  insensibly  smiled.  Tecmghretanego  observed  me  laughing, 
which  displ^fised  him,  and  occasioned  him  to  address  me  in 
the  following  manner. 

"  Brother :  l  have  somewhat  to  say  to  you,  and  I  hope  you 
will  not  be  offended  when  I  tell  you  of  your  faults.  You 
know  that  when  you  were  reading  your  books  in  town  I  would 
not  lit  the  boys  or  any  one  disturb  you ;  but  now,  when  I  was 
pra^ng,  I  saw  you  laughing.  I  do  not  think  that  you  look 
"upon  praying  as  a  foolish  thing ;  I  believe  you  pray  yourself. 
But  perhaps  y^  may  think  my  mode  or  manner  of  praying 
foolish ;  vl  so,  ^u  ought  in  a  friendly  manner  to  instruct  me, 
and  not  make  sport  of  sacred  things." 
I  acknowledged  my  error,  and  on  this  he  handed  me  his 


'"^' 


t^ 


♦»- 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


231 


his  ad- 

led  the 
lOut  and 
misery, 
re  I  will 


irell,  and 
to  jump 

bears,  as 

he  banks, 


igy  about 
to  Sciota, 
he  rocks. 
Bts  stand; 

though  I 
Ipresent  of 

lerefore  I 
thy  ser- 

'ts. 


» 


iretanego, 
ity,  I  was 
uly  com- 
and  as  I 
St  the  last 
ment,  and 
laughing, 
ess  me  in 

hope  you 
ilts.  You 
rn  I  would 
hen  I  was 
you  look 
r  yourself. 
>f  praying 
struct  me, 

>d  me  his 


pipe  to  smoke,  in  token  of  friendship  and  reconciliation,  though 
at  this  time  he  had  nothing  to  -noke  but  red  willow  bark.  I 
told  him  something  of  the  method  of  reconciliation  with  an 
ofiended  God.  as  revealed  in  my  Bible,  which  I  had  then  in  -v 
possession.  He  said  that  he  liked  my  story  better  than  that 
of  the  French  priests,  but  he  thought  tnat  he  was  now  too  old 
to  begin  to  learn  a  new  religion,  therefore  he  should  continue  ^o; 

to  worship  God  in  the  way  that  he  had  been  taught,  and  that 
if  salvation  or  future  happiness  was  to  be  had  in  his  way  of 
worship,  he  expected  he  would  obtain  it,  and  if  it  was  incon- 
sistent with  the  honor  of  the  Great  Spirit  to  accept  of  him  in 
his  own  way  of  worship,  he  hoped  that  Owaneeyo  would  , 
accept  of  him  in  the  way  I  had  mentioned,  or  in  some  other  ■% 

way,  though  he  might  now  be  ignorant  of  the  channel  through       ^ 
which  favor  or  mercy  might  be  conveyed.     He  said  that  he       '• 
believed  that  Owaneeyo  would  hear  and  help  every  one-  that 
sincerely  waited  upon  him. 

Here  we  may  see  how  far  the  light  of  nature  could  go ;  per- 
haps we  see  it  hrre  almost  in  its  highest  extent.     Notwith- 
standing the  just  views  that  this  great  man   entertained  otB^-     .-.■,■ 
Providence,  yet  we  now  see  him  (though  he  acknowledged  his      , , 
guilt)  expecting  to  appease  the  Deity,  and  procure  his  favor, 
by  burning  a  little  tobacco.     We  may  observe  that  all  heathen 
nations^  as  far  as  we  can  find  out  either  by  tradition  or  the 
light  of  nature,  agree  with  revelation  in  this,  that  sacrifice  is^^, 
necessary,  or  that  some  kind  of  atonement  is  to  be  made  in 
order  to  remove  guilt  and  reconcile  them  to  God.      ThiS| 
accompanied  with  numberless  other  witnesses,   is  sufficient        '* 
evidence  of  the  rationality  of  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures. 

A  few  days  after  Tecaughretanego  had  gone  through  his 
ceremonies  and  finished  his  prayers,  the  rain  came  and  raised 
the  creek  a  sufficient  height,  so  that  we  passed  in  safety  down^ijii; 
to  Sciota,  and  proceeded  up  to  the  carrying  place.  Let  us 
now  describe  the  land  on  chis  route  from  our  winter  hut,  and 
down  Ollentangy  to  the  Sciota,  and  up  it  to  the  cfjrrying  place. 

About  our  winter  cabin  is  chiefly  first  and  second  rate  land. 
A  considerable  way  up  Ollentangy,  on  the  south-west  side 
thereof,  or  betwixt  it  and  the  Miami,  there  is  a  very  Urge  .^ 

prairie,  and  from  this  prairie  down  Ollentangy  to  Sciota  iitl. 
generally  first  rate  land.  The  timber  is  walnut,  sugaS^tree^ 
ash,  buckeye,  locust,  wild  cherry,  and  spice-wood,  intermixed 
with  some  oak  and  beech.  From  the  mouth  of  Ollentangy, 
on  the  east  side  of  Sciota,  up  to  the  carryingKplace,  there  is  a 
large  body  of  first  and  second  rate  land,  and  tolirably  well 
watered.  The  timber  is  ash,  sugai'-tree,  walnut,  locust,  oak, 
and  beech.     Up  near  the  carrying  place  the  land  is  a  little 


4^' 


«,• 


232 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


♦ 


hilly,  but  the  soil  good.  We  proceeded  from  this  place  down 
Sandusky,  and  in  our  passage  we  killed  four  bears  and  a 
number  of  turkeys.  Tecaughretanego  appeared  now  fully 
persuaded  that  all  this  came  in  answer  to  his  prayers,  and  who 
can  say  with  any  degree  of  certainty  that  it  was  not  so  ? 

When  we  came  to  the  little  lake  at  the  mouth  of  Sandusky, 
we  called  at  a  Wyandot  town  that  was  then  there,  called 
Sunyendeand.  Here  we  diverted  ourselves  several  days  by 
catching  rock  fish  in  a  small  creek,  the  name  of  which  is  also 
Sunyendeand,  which  signifies  rock  fish.  They  fished  in  the 
night  with  lights,  and  struck  the  fish  with  gigs  or  spears.  The 
rock  fish  here,  when  they  begin  first  to  run  up  the  creek  to 
spawn,  are  exceedingly  fat,  sufficiently  so  to  fry  themselves. 
The  first  night  we  scarcely  caught  fish  enough  for  present 
use  for  all  that  was  in  the  town. 

The  next  morning  I  met  with  a  prisoner  at  this  place  by 
the  name  of  Thompson,  who  had  been  taken  from  Virginia?. 
He  told  me,  if  the  Indians  would  only  omit  disturbing  the  fish 
for  one  night,  he  could  catch  more  fish  than  the  whole  town 
could  make  use  of.  I  told  Mr.  Thompson  that  if  he  was  cer- 
tain he  could  do  this,  that  I  would  use  my  influence  with  the 
Indians  to  let  the  fish  alone  for  one  night.  I  applied  to  the 
chiefs,  who  agreed  to  my  proposal,  and  said  they  were  anxious 
to  see  what  the  Great  Knife  (as  they  called  the  Virginian) 
could  do.  Mr.  Thompson,  with  the  assistance  of  some  other 
prisoners,  set  to  work,  and  made  a  hoop-net  of  elm  bark ;  they 
then  cut  down  a  tree  across  the  creek,  and  stuck  in  stakes  at 
the  lower  side  of  it  to  prevent  the  fish  from  passing  up,  leaving 
only  a  gap  at  the  one  side  of  the  creek ;  here  he  sat  with  his 
net,  and  when  he  felt  the  fish  touch  the  net  he  drew  it  ttp,  and 
frequently  would  haul  out  two  or  three  rock  fish  that  would 
weigh  about  five  or  six  pounds  each.  He  continued  at  this 
Until  he  had  hauled  out  about  a  wagon  load,  and  then  left  the 
gap  open  in  order  to  let  them  pass  up,  for  they  could  not  go 
far  on  account  of  the  shallow  water.  Before  day  Mr.  Thomp- 
son shut  it  up,  to  prevent  them  from  passing  down,  in  order  to 
let  the  Indians  have  some  diversion  in  killing  them  in  daylight. 

When  the  news  of  the  fish  came  to  town,  the  Indians  all 
colle^ed,  and  with  surprise  beheld  the  large  heap  of  fish,  and 
applsraded  the  ingenuity  of  the  Virginian.  When  they  saw 
the  number  of  thena  that  were  confined  in  the  water  above  the 
tree,  the  young  Indians  ran  back  to  the  town,  and  in  a  rjhort 
Ip^d  fbturned  with  their  spears,  gigs,  bows  and  arrows  &c., 
laid  were  the  chief  part  of  that  day  engaged  in  killin//  rock 
fish,  insomuch  that  we  had  more  than  we  could  use  jr  pre- 
serve.   As  we  had  no  salt,  or  any  way  to  keep  them,  they  lay 


'"V^ 


jb 


COLONEL  SMITH'S   CAPTIVITY. 


233 


e  down 
I  and  a 
w  fully 
ind  who 
»? 

ndusky, 
},  called 
days  by 
h  is  also 
d  in  the 
rs.  The 
creek  to 
jmselves. 
f  present 

place  by 
Virginia, 
g  the  fish 
lole  town 
J  was  cer- 
3  with  the 
ied  to  the 
re  anxious 
Virginian) 
ome  other 
ark;  they 
I  slakes  at 
ip,  leaving 
it  with  his 
it  «p,  and 
[hat  would 
id  at  this 
n  left  the 
lid  not  go 
J.  Thomp- 
[n  order  to 
daylight, 
ndians  all 
|f  fish,  and 
they  saw 
above  the 
in  a  fjhort 
rows  &Cm 
fllin'/  rock 
ise  it  pre- 
,  they  lay 


upon  the  banks,  and  after  some  time  great  numbers  of  turkey- 
buzzards  and  eagles  collected  together  and  devoured  them. 

Shortly  after  this  we  left  Sunyendeand,  and  in  three  days 
arrived  at  Detroit,  where  wo  remained  this  summer. 

Some  time  in  May  we  heard  that  General  Forbes,  with 
seven  thousand  men,  was  preparing  to  carry  on  a  campaign 
against  fort  Du  Quesne,  which  then  stood  near  where  fort 
Pitt  was  afterwards  erected.  Upon  receiving  this  news,  a 
number  of  runners  were  sent  ofT  by  the  French  commander  at 
Detroit  to  urge  the  different  tribes  of  Indian  warriors  to  repair 
to  fort  Du  Quesne. 

Some  time  in  July,  1758,  the  Ottawas,  Jibewas,  Potowato- 
mies,  and  Wyandots,  rendezvoused  at  Detroit,  and  marched  off 
to  fort  Du  Quesne,  to  prepare  for  the  encounter  of  General 
Forbes.  The  common  report  was  that  they  would  serve  him 
as  they  did  General  Braddock,  and  obtain  much  plunder. 
From  this  time  until  fall,  we  had  frequent  accounts  of  Forbes's 
army,  by  Indian  runners  that  were  sent  out  to  watch  their 
motion.  They  espied  them  frequently  from  the  mountains 
ever  after  they  left  fort  Loudon.  Notwithstanding  their  vigi- 
lance, Golonr  *  Grant,  with  his  Highlanders,  stole  a  march  upon 
them,  and  in  ihe  night  took  possession  of  a  hill  about  eighty 
rods  from  fort  Du  Quesne ;  this  hill  is  on  that  account  called 
Grant's  Hill  to  this  day.  The  French  and  Indians  knew  not 
that  Grant  and  his  men  were  there,  until  they  beat  the  drum  ^^ 
and  pla.yed  upon  the  bagpipes  just  at  daylight.  They  then 
flew  to  arms,  and  the  Indians  ran  up  under  cover  of  the  banks 
of  Alleghany  and  Monongahela  for  some  distance,  and  then 
sallied  out  from  the  banks  of  the  rivers,  and  took  possession  of 
the  hill*  above  Grant ;  and  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  it,  in  sight 
of  the  fort,  they  immediately  surrounded  him,  and  as  he  had 
his  Highlanders  i^  ranks,  and  in  very  close  order,  and  the 
Indians  scattered  and  concealed  behind  trees,  they  defeated 
him  with  the  loss  only  of  a  few  warriors ;  most  of  the  High- 
landers were  killed  or  taken  prisoners.  ' 

After  this  defeat  the  Indians  held  a  council,  but  were  divided 
in  their  opinions.     Some  said  that  General  Forbes  woulcPnow 
turn  back,  and  go  home  the  way  that  he  came,  as  Dunbar  had  ^ 
done  when  General  Braddock  was  defeated;  others  supniDSiBd 
he  would  come  on.     The  French  urged  the  Indians  t^tay 
and  see  the  event;  but  as  it  was  hard  for  the  Indians  to  be^riSt; 
absent  from  their  squaws  and  children  at  this  season  of  the*  *  ' 
year,  a  great  many  of  them  returned  home  to  their  huj^tin^ 
After  this,  the  lemainder  of  the  Indians,  some  French  regulaiir;^,, 
and  a  number  of  Canadians,  marched  off  in  quest  of  Genera^*' 
Forbes.     They  met  his  army  near  fort  Ligoneer,  and  attacked 

20* 


I 


■\- 


-4 


<^'- 


# 


'4 

234 


COLONEL   SMITH'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I 


them,  but  were  frustrated  in  their  design.  They  said  that 
Forbes's  men  were  beginning  to  learn  the  art  of  war,  and  that 
there  w^erc  a  great  number  of  American  riflemen  along  with 
the  red'coats,  who  scattered  out,  took  tree.s,  and  were  good 
marksmen ;  therefore  they  found  they  could  not  accomplish 
their  design,  and  were  obliged  to  retreat.  When  they  returned 
from  the  battle  to  fort  Du  Quesne,  the  Indians  concluded  that 
they  would  go  to  their  hunting.  The  French  endeavored  to 
persuade  them  to  stay  and  try  another  battle.  The  Indians 
said  if  it  was  only  the  red'Coats  they  had  to  do  with,  they 
could  soon  subdue  them,  but  they  could  not  withstand  Asha- 
lecoa,  or  the  Great  Knife,  which  was  the  name  they  gave  the 
Virginians.  They  then  returned  home  to  their  hunting,  and 
the  French  evacuated  the  fort,  which  General  Forbes  came 
and  took  possession  of,  without  further  opposition,  late  in  the 
year  1768,  and  at  this  time  began  to  build  fort  Pitt. 

When  Tecaughretanego  had  heard  the  particulars  of  Grant's 
defeat,  he  said  that  he  could  not  well  account  for  his  contra- 
dictory and  inconsistent  conduct.  He  said,  as  the  art  of  war 
consists  in  ambushing  ^nd  surprising  our  enemies,  and  in 
preventing  them  from  ambushing  and  surprising  us,  Grant,  in 
the  first  place,  acted  like  a  wise  and  experienced  warrior  in 
artfully  approaching  in  the  night  without  being  discovered; 
I  it  when  he  came  to  the  place,  and  the  Indians  were  lying 
asleep  outside  of  the  fort,  between  him  and  the  Alleghany 
river,  in  place  of  slipping  up  quietly,  and  failing  upon  them 
with  their  broadswords,  they  beat  the  drums  and  played  upon 
the  bagpipes.  He  said  he  could  account  for  this  inconsistent 
conduct  no  other  way  than  by  supposing  that  he  had  made  too 
free  with  spirituous  liquors  dui^ng  the  night,  and  became 
intoxicated  about  daylight.     But  to  return. 

This  year  we  hunted  up  Sandusky  and  down  Sciota,  and 
ilook  nearly  the  same  route  that  we  ha  J  done  the  last  hunting 
season.   -^We  had  considerable  success,  and  returned  to  Detroit 

.  «ome  time  in  April,  1759. 

•  '  Shortly  after  this,  Tecaughretanego,  his  son  Nungany  and 
my^lf,  went  from  Detroit  (in  an  elm-bark  can  >e)  to  Caughne- 

^waga,  a  very  ancient  Indian  town,  about  nine  miles  above 
Iffontreal,  where  I  remained  until  about  the  first  of  July.  I 
then  heard  of  a  French  ship  at  Montreal  that  had  English 
prisoners  on  board,  in  order  to  carry  them  over  sea  and  ex- 
change them.  I  went  privately  off  from  the  Indians,  and  got 
dfeo j^n  board ;  but  as  General  Wolfe  had  stopped  the  river  St. 

iliiA^ence  we  were  all  sent  to  prison  in  Montreal,  where  I 
iremained  four  ir-inths.  Some  time  in  November  we  were  all 
sent  off  from  this  place  to  Grown  Point,  and  exchanged. 


*^ 


COLONEL   SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


^36 


said  that 
and  that 
long  with 
'ero  good 
:complish 
r  returned 
uded  that 
•avored  to 
le  Indians 
with,  thoy 
and  AshC' 
f  gave  the 
nting,  and 
rbes  came 
late  in  the 

1  of  Grant's 
his  contra- 
art  of  war 
,es,  and  in 
3,  Grant,  in 
warrior  in 
discovered ; 
were  lying 
Alleghany 
upon  them 
flayed  upon 
inconsistent 
,d  made  too 
,nd  became 

Sciota,  and 
last  hunting 
to  Detroit 

-ingany  and 
lo  Caughne- 
milcs  above 

of  July.  I 
lad  English 
^ea  and  ex- 

ms,  and  got 
Jthe  river  St. 
lal,  where  I 
]we  were  all 
iged. 


Early  in  the  year  1760, 1  came  home  to  Gonococheague,  and 
found  that  my  people  could  never  ascertain  whether  I  was 
killed  or  taken  until  my  return.  They  received  me  with  great 
joy,  but  were  surprised  to  see  me  so  much  like  an  Indian  both 
in  my  gait  and  gesture. 

Upon  inquiry,  I  found  that  my  sweetheart  was  married  a 
few  days  before  I  arrived.  My  feelings  1  must  leave  on  this 
occasion  for  those  of  my  readers  to  judge  who  have  felt  the 
pangs  of  disappointed  love,  as  it  is  impossible  now  for  me  to 
describe  the  emotion  of  soul  I  felt  at  that  time. 

Now  there  was  peace  with  the  Indians,  which  lasted  until 
the  year  1763.  Some  time  in  May,  this  year,  I  married,  and 
about  that  time  the  Indians  again  commenced  hostilities,  and 
were  busily  engaged  in  ki  ling  and  scalping  the  frontier  inha- 
bitants in  various  parts  ot  Pennsylvania.  The  whole  Cono- 
cocheague  valley,  from  the  North  to  the  South  Mountain,  had 
been  almost  entirely  evacuated  during  Braddock's  war.  This 
state  was  then  a  Quaker  government,  and  at  the  first  of  this 
war  the  frontiers  received  no  assistance  from  the  state.  As 
the  people  were  now  beginning  to  live  at'  home  again,  they 
thought  it  hard  to  be  drove  away  a  second  time,  and  were 
determined,  if  possible,  to  make  a  stand ;  therefore  they  raised 
as  much  money  by  collections  and  subscriptions  as  would  pay 
a  company  of  riflemen  for  several  months.  The  subscribers 
met,  and  elected  a  committee  to  manage  the  business.  The 
committee  appointed  me  captain  of  this  company  of  rangers, 
and  gave  me  the  appointment  of  my  subalterns.  I  chose  two 
of  the  most  active  young  men  that  I  could  find,  who  had  also 
been  long  in  captivity  with  the  Indians.  As  we  enlisted  our 
men,  we  dressed  them  uniformly  in  the  Indian  manner,  with 
breech-clouts,  leggins,  moccasins,  and  green  shrouds,  which" 
we  wore  in  the  same  manner  that  the  Indians  do,  and  nearly 
as  the  Highlanders  wear  their  plaids.  In  place  of  hats  vm 
wore  red  handkerchiefs,  and  painted  our  faces  red  and  black 
like  Indian  warriors.  I  taught  them  the  Indian  disciplioe,  as 
I  knew  of  no  other  at  that  time,  which  would  answer  the 
purpose  much  better  than  British.  We  succeeded  biyond 
expectation  in  defending  the  frontiers,  and  were  extolled  bv  .^ 
our  employers!  Near  the  conclusion  of  this  expedition  r 
accepted  of  an  ensign's  commission  in  the  regular  service, 
under  King  George,  in  what  was  then  called  the  Pennsjit^nia 
line.  Upon  my  resignation,  my  lieutenant  succeeded  lai^  >  itt 
command  the  rest  of  the  time  they  were  to  serve,  la  ^%j^ 
fall  (the  same  year)  I  went  on  the  Susquehanna  campaigB^. 
against  the  Indians,  under  the  command  of  General  Armstrongs 
la  this  route  we  burnt  the  Delaware  and  Monsey  towns,  on 


111 

I 


*i 


m 


.it-;.i 


'■m- 
% 


i^ 


[ 


■■■"#: 


^W~ 


236 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


the  west  branch  of  the  Susquehanna,  and  destroyed  all  their 
com. 

In  the  year  1764  I  received  a  lieutenant's  commission,  and 
went  out  on  General  Bouquet's  campaign  against  the  Indians 
on  the  MuskiAgum.  Here  we  brought  them  to  terms,  and 
promised  to  be  at  peace  with  them,  upon  condition  that  they 
would  give  up  all  our  people  that  they  had  then  in  captivity 
among  them.  They  then  delivered  unto  us  three  hundred  of 
the  prisoners,  and  said  that  they  could  not  collect  them  all  at 
this  time,  as  it  was  now  late  in  the  year,  and  they  were  far 
scattered ;  but  they  promised  that  they  would  bring  them  all 
into  fort  Pitt  early  next  spring,  and  as  security  that  they 
would  do  this,  they  delivered  to  us  six  of  their  chiefs  as  hos- 
tages. Upon  this  we  settled  a  cessation  of  arms  for  six  months, 
and  promised,  tipon  their  fulfilling  the  aforesaid  condition,  .to 
make  with  them  a  permanent  peac&i 

A  little  below  fort  Pitt  the  hostages  all  made  their  escape. 
Shortly  after  this  the  Indians  stole  horses  and  killed  some  peo- 
ple on  the  frontiers.  The  king's  proclamation  was  then  circu- 
lating and  set  up  in-  various  public  places,  prohibiting  any  per- 
son from  trading  with  the  Indians  until  further  orders. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  about  the  first  of  March,  1765,  a 
number  of  wagons^  loaded  with  Indian  goods  and  warlike 
stores,  weref  sent  from  Philadelphia  to  Henry  Pollens,  Gono- 
cocheague,  and  from  thence  seventy  pack  horses  were  loaded 
with  these  goods,  in  order  to  carry  them  to  fort  Pitt.  This 
alarmed  the  country,  and  Mr.  William  Dufiield  raised  £.bout 
fifty  armed  men,  and  met  the  pack  horses  at  the  place  where 
Mercersburg  now  stands.  Mr.  Dufiield  desired  the  employers  to 
store  up  their  goods,  and  not  proceed  until  further  orders.  They 
made  light  of  this,  and  went  over  the  North  |iIountain,  where 
they tlodged  in  a  small  valley  cajled  the  Great^ove.  Mr.  Duf- 
Uteldand  his  party  followed  after,  andcam^to  thtir  lodging,  and 
again  ur^d  them  to  store  up  thi^ir  goods ;  he  r&tfsoned  with  them 
on  the  impni^priety  of  the  proceedings,  and  the  great  danger 
the  frontier  inhabitants  would  be  exposed  to,  if  the  Indians  should 
now  get  a  supply:  he  said,  as  it  was  well  known  that  they 
had  scarcely  any  ammunition,  and  were  almost  naked,  to  supply 
Them  now  would  be  a  kind  of  murder,  and  would  be  illegally 
-trading  at  the  expense  of  the  blood  and  treasure  of  the  fron- 
tierS.«4iw  Notwithstanding  his  powerful  reasoning,  these  traders 
madHgame  of  what  he  said,  and  would  only  answer  him  by 
Iiii^emus  burlesque. 

;^;  "Wlen  I  beheld  this,  and  found  that  Mr.  Dufiield  would  not 
compel  them  to  store  up  their  goods,  I  collected  ten  of  my  old 
warriors,  diat  I  had  formerly  disciplined  in  the  Indian  way,  went 


% 
^ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


237 


''    IIP 


all  their 

ion,  and 
I  Indians 
'ms,  and 
ihat  they 
captivity 
indred  oi 
em  all  at 

were  far 

them  all 
that  they 
fs  as  hos- 
X  months, 
idition,  Jto 

>ir  escapct 
some  peo- 
hen  circu- 
y  any  per- 
rs» 

;h!  1765,  a 
id  warlike 
ens,  Cono- 
ere  loaded 
'itt.     This 
lised  cbout 
ace  where 
iployers  to 
xs.    They 
;ain,  where 
Mr.  Duf- 
idging,  and 
with  them 
lat  danger 
ians  should 
that  they 
,  to  supply 
je  illegally 
»f  the  fron- 
se  traders 
er  him  by 

would  not 

I  of  my  old 

way,  went 


iff  priv«ii»ly  after  night,  and  encamped  in  the  woods.  The 
next  day,  as  usual,  we  blacked  and  painted,  and  waylaid  them 
near  Sidelong  Hill.  I  scattered  my  men  about  forty  rod  along 
the  side  of  the  road,  and  ordered  every  two  to  take  a  tree,  and 
about  eight  or  ten  rod  between  each  couple,  with  orders  to 
keep  a  reserve  fire,  one  not  to  fire  until  his  comrade  had  loaded 
his  gun ;  by  this  means  we  kept  up  a  constant,  slow  fire  upon 
them,  from  front  to  rear.  We  then  heard  nothing  of  these  tra- 
ders' merriment  or  burlesque.  When  they  saw  their  pack- 
horses  falling  close  by  them,  they  called  ont,  pray,  gentlemen^ 
what  would  you  have  us  to  do  ?  Thejreply  vas,  collect  all  your 
loads  to  the  front',  and  utdoad  them  in  one  place  ;  take  your 
private  property,  and  immediately  retire.  When  they  were 
gone,  we  burnt  what  they  left,  which  consisted  of  blankets, 
shirts,  Vermillion,  lead  beads,  wampum,  tomahawks,  scalping- 
knives,  &c. 

The  traders  went  back  to  fort  Loudon,  and  applied  to  the 
commanding  officer  there,  and  got  a  party  of  Highland  soldiers, 
and  went  with  them  in  quest  of  the  robbers,  as  they  called  us; 
and  without  applying  to  a  magistrate,  or  obtaining  any  civil 
authority,  but' bpirely.  upon  suspicion,  they  took  a  number  of 
creditable  persons  prisoners,  (who  were  chiefly  not  any  way 
concerned  in  this  action,)  and  confined  jlhem  in  the  guard- 
house in  fort  Loi\(don.  I  then  raised  three  hundred  rillemen, 
marched  -  to  fort  Loudon,  and  encamped  on  a  hill  in  sight  of 
the  fort.  W^e  were  not  long  there,  until  we  had  more  than 
double  as  many  of  the  British  troops  prisoners  in  our  camp 
as  they  had  of  our  people  in  the  guard-house.  Captain  Grant, 
a  Highland  ofTcer,  who  comn]|anded  fort  Loudon,  then  sent  a 
flag  of  truce  to  our  camp,  where  we  settled  a  cartel,  and  gave 
them  above  two  for  one,  which  enabled  us  to  redeem  all  our 
men  from  the  guard-house,  witlVouf  further  difficulty. 

After  this,  Captain  Grantl^cept  a  number  of  rifle  guns  whicb|{|^f^ 
the  Highlanders  ^ad  taken  from  tjie  country  people,  an4  refused  ^  "^ 
to"  give  them  up.     As  he  was  riding  out  one  day,  \jre  took  him 
prisoner,  and  detained  him  'until  he  delivered  up  the  arms ;  ;.     ^ 
we  also  destroyed  a  large  quantity  of  gunpowder  that  the  tra-    ^  " 
ders  had  stored  up,  lest  it  might  be  conveyed  privately  to  the     ' 
Indians.     The  king's  troops,  and  our  party  iad  now  got  entirely  * 
out  of  the  channel  of  the  civil  law,  and  many  unjustifiable 
things  were  done  by  both  parties.     This  convinced  me  ^tAiore 
than  ever  I  had  been  before  of  the  absolute  necessity  of|$he 
civil  law  in  order  to  govern  mankind.  j^ 

About  this  time  the  following  song  was  composed  KyiM!r* 
George  Campbell,  (an  Irish  gentleman,  who  had  been  edt|p 


1   :i 


'%.,#; 


% 


■V  *  • 


i 


^ 


ii 


\ 


,^j; 


*•  " 


i 


238 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


cated  in  Dublin,)  and  was  frequently  sung  to  the  tune  of  tlie 
Black  Joke. 

Ye  patriot  souls,  who  love  to  sing. 
Who  serve  your  countiy  and  your  king, 
...  *  In  wealth,  peace  and  royal  estate  j 

Attention  give  whilst  I  rehearse 
A  modem  fact  in  jingling  verse, 
How  party  interest  strove  what  it  could 
To  profit  itself  by  public  blood. 
But  justly  met  its  merited  fate. 

Let  all  those  Indian  traders  claim 
Their  just  reward,  inglorious  fame. 

For  vile,  base  and  treacherous  ends. 
To  Pollens,  in  the  spring,  they  sent 
■■        Much  warlike  stores,  with  an  intent 

To  carry  them  to  our  barbarous  foes,  ^ 

Expecting  that  nobody  dare  oppose, 

A  present  to  their  Indian  friends. 

Astonish'd  at  the  wild  design. 
Frontier  inhabitants  combin'd 

With  brave  souls  to  stop  their  cajreer ,     - 
Although  some  men  apostatiz'd, 
Who  first  the  grand  attempt  advis'd,  ^ 

^       .  The  bold  frontiei-s  they  bravely  stood, 

To  act  for  their  king  and  their  country's  good, 

In  joint  league,  and  strangers  to  fear. 

->;>'■•*     On  March  the  fifth,  in  sixty-five. 
The  Indian  presents  did  arrive. 

In  long  pomp  and  cavalcade, 
Near  Sidelong  Hill,  where  in  disguise 
Some  patriots  did  their  train  surprise. 
And  quick  as  lightning  tumbled  their  loads. 
And  kindled  them  bonfires  in  the  woods, 

And  mostly  burnt  their  whole  brigade. 


5^. 


«**■ 


,^% 


■•»f. 


'% 


At  Loudon  when  they  heard  the  news,' 
They  scarcely  knew  which  way  to  choose, 

For  blind  rage  and  discontent ; 
At  length  some  soldiers  ihey  sent  out. 
With  guides  for^o  conduct  the  route, 
And  seized  some  men  that  were  trav'ling  there, 
And  hurried  them  into  Loudon,  where 

They  laid  them  fast  with  one  consent. 

But  men  of  resolution  thought 

Too  much  to  see  their  neighbors  caught 

For  no  crime  but  false  surmise  : 
Forthwith  they  join'd  a  warlike  band. 
And  march'd  to  Loudon  out  of  hand, 
And  kept  the  jailers  pns'ners  there, 
Until  our  friends  enlarged  were, 

Without  fraud  or  any  disguise. 


?t 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTUKES. 


239 


of  the 


Let  mankind  censure  or  commend 
This  rash  performance  in  the  end^ 

Then  both  sides  will  find  their  account. 
'Tis  true  no  law  can  justify  *f^.  '' 

To  bum  our  neighbor's  property,  .  ''<S^-.^;'k,,  .... 

But  when  this  prop.irty  is  design'd  f  .^ifiH^ " 

To  serve  the  enemies  of  mankind,  '■..... 

It's  high  treason  in  the  amount. 

After  this,  we  kept  up  a  guard  of  men  on  the  frontiers,  for 
several  months,  to  prevent  supplies  being  sent  to  the  Indians, 
until  it  was  proclaimed  that  Sir  William  Johnson  had  made 
peace  with  them,  and  then  we  let  the  traders  pass  unmolested. 

In  the  year  1766,  I  heard  that  Sir  Williswn  Johnson,  the 
king's  agent  for  settling  affairs  with  the  Indians,  had  purchased 
from  them  all  the  land  west  of  the  Appalachian  Mountains  that 
lay  between  the  Ohio  and  Cherokee  river ;  and  as  I  knew  by 
conversing  with  the  Indians  in  their  own  tongue  that  there 
was  a  large  body  of  rich  land  there,  I  concluded  I  Would  take 
a  tour  wect   «>^''  and  explore  that  country. 

I  set  oui  '  the  last  of  June,  1766,  and  went  in  the  first 
place  to  H  '  .  ui  river,  and  from  thence  I  travelled  westward 
in  company  with  Joshua  Horton,  Uriah  Stone,  William  Baker 
and  James  Smith,  who  came  from  near  Carlisle.  There  were 
only  four  white  men  of  us,  and  a  mulatto  slave  about  eigh- 
teen years  of  age,  that  Mr.  Horton  had  with  him.  We  ex- 
plored the  country  south  of  Kentucky,  and  there  was  no  more 
sign  of  white  men  there  then  than  there  is  now  west  of  the 
head  waters  of  the  Missouri.  We  also  explored  Cumberland 
and  Tennessee  rivers,  from  Stone's'*''  river  down  to  the  Ohio. 

When  we  came  to  the  mouth  of  Tennessee,  my  fellow- 
travellers  concluded  that  they  would  proceed  on  to  the  Illinois, 
and  see  some  more  of  the  land  to  the  west ;  this  I  would  not  . 

agree  to.     As  I  had  already  beeil  longer  from  home  than  what^^i^|it.; 
I  expected,  I  thought  my  wife  would  be  distressed,  and  think  I    /   i 
was  killed  by  the  Indians ;  therefore  I  concluded  that  I  would    i  , 
return  home.     I  sent  my  horse  with  my  fellow-travellers  to     v    ;^* 
the  Illinois,  as  it  was  difficult  to  take  a  horse  through  the      ;  =^ 
mountains.     My  comrades  gave  me  the  greatest  part  of  tl)A     4 
ammunition  they  then  had,  which  amounted  only  to  half  a  pound  4*^ ' 
of  powder,  and  lead  equivalent.     Mr.  Horton  also  lent  me  his    . 
mulatto  boy,  and  I  then  set  off  through  the  wilderness  for  Caro- 
lina. •  %' 


*  Stone's  river  is  a  south  branch  of  Cumberland,  and  empties  j|to  it 
above  Nashville.  We  first  gave  it  this  name  m  our  journal,  in  May.  ]^67, 
after  one  of  my  fellow-travellers,  Mr.  Uriah  Stone,  and  I  am  told  that  ^ii 
rataiiui  the  same  name  unto  this  day. 


"M^ 


«i 


«•• 


\\    '% 


A 


m 

0 


/ajB' 


J-' 


X 


'^ 


% 


I 


.«:<- 


mo 


.n 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


About  eight  days  after  I  left  my  company  at  the  mouth  of 
Tennessee,  on  my  journey  eastward,  I  got  a  cane  stab  in  my 
foot,  which  occasioned  my  leg  to  swell,  and  I  suflTered  much 

Eain.  I  w  ^oyf  in  a  doIefui  situation ;  far  from  any  of  the 
uman  spe  ^  excepting  black  Jamie,  or  the  savages,  and  I  knew 
not  when  .ight  meet  with  them.  My  case  appeared  despe- 
rate, and  I  .nought  something  must  be  done.  All  the  surgical 
instruments  I  had  was  a  knife,  a  moccasin  awl,  and  a  pair  of 
bullet-moulds ;  with  these  I  deteiminod  to  draw  the  snag  from 
my  foot,  if  possible.  I  stuck  the  awl  in  the  skin,  and  with 
the  knife  I  cut  the  flesh  away  from  around  the  cane,  and  then 
I  commanded  the  mulatto  fellow  to  catch  it  with  the  bullet- 
Ihoulds,  and  pull  it  out,  which  he  did.  When  I  saw  it,  it 
seemed  a  shocking  thing  to  be  in  any  person's  foot ;  it  will  there- 
fore be  ;-'upposed  that  I  was  very  glad  to  have  it  out.  The 
black  fellow  attended  upon  me,  and  obeyed  my  directions  faith- 
fully. I  ordered  him  to  search  for  Indian  medicine,  and  told 
him  to  get  me  a  quantity  of  bark  from  the  root  of  a  lynn  tree, 
which  I  made  him  beat  on  a  stone,  with  a  tomahawk,  and 
boil  it  in  a  kettle,  and  with  the  ooze  I  bathed  my  foot  and  leg ; 
what  remained  when  I  had  finished  bathing  I  boiled  to  a  jelly 
lind  made  poultices  thereof.  As  I  had  no  rags,  I  made  use  of 
the  green  moss  that  grows  upon  logs,  and  wrapped  it  round  with 
elni  bark ;  by  this  means,  (simple  as  it  may  seem,)  the  swell- 
ing and  inflammation  in  a  great  measure  abated.  As  stormy 
weather  appeared,  I  ordered  Jamie  to  make  us  a  shelter,  which 
he  did  by  erecting  forks  and  poles,  and  covering  them  over 
with  cane  tops,  like  a  fodder  house.  It  was  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  from  a  large  buffalo  road.  As  we  were  almost  out 
of  provision,  t  commanded  Jamie  to  take  my  gun,  and  I  went 
along  as  well  as  I  could,  concealed  myself  near  the  road,  and 
killed  a  buffalo.  When  this  was  done,  we  jerked*  the  lean, 
%and  fried  the  tallow  out  of  the  fat  meat,  which  we  kept  to  stew 
with  our  jerk  as  we  needed  it. 
While  I  lay  at  this  place,  all  the  books  I  had  to  read  was  a 

fsalm-book  and  Watts  upon  Prayer.     Whilst  in  this  situation, 
composed  the  following  verses,  which  I  then  frequently  sung. 


m. 


4i 


^ 


•iti> 


J*. 


?Ps 


Six  weeks  I've  in  this  desert  been, 

With  one  malatto  lad : 
Excepting  this  poor  stupid  slave, 

No  company  I  had. 


:■"*.*' 


*|erk  is  a  name  well  known  by  the  hunters  and  frontier  inhabitants 
fat  tteat  cnt  in  small  pieces  and  laid  on  a  scaffold,  over  a  slow  fa», 
whereby  it  is  roasted  until  it  is  thoroughly  dry. 


•  « 


»r 


m 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


241 


)uth  of 
in  my 
1  mucn 
^  of  the 
i  I  knew 
1  despe- 
surgical 
pair  of 
lag  from 
md  with 
ind  then 
B  bullet- 
aw  it,  it 
ill  there- 
It.    The 
3ns  faith- 
and  told 
ynn  tree, 
awk,  and 
and  leg ; 
to  a  jelly 
ide  use  of 
3und  with 
the  swell- 
.s  stormy 
ter,  which 
„iem  over 
one  hun- 
ilmost  out 
A  I  went 
road,  and 
the  lean, 
[pt  to  stew 

>ad  was  a 

situation, 

Intly  sung. 


I  inhabitants 
la  slowfi»i 


In  solitude  I  here  remain, 

A  cripple  veij  sore, 
No  friend  or  neighbor  to  be  found, 

My  case  for  to  deplore. 

I'm  far  from  home,  far  from  the  wife 

Which  in  my  bosom  lay, 
Far  from  the  children  dear,  which  used 

Around  me  for  to  play. 

This  doleful  circumstance  cannot 

My  happiness  prevent. 
While  peace  of  conscience  I  enjoy, 

Great  comfort  and  content. 

I  continued  in  this  place  until  I  could  walk  slowly,  without 
crutches.  As  I  now  lay  ne'ir  a  great  buffalo  road,  I  was 
afraid  that  the  Indians  might  be  passing  that  way,  and  discover 
my  fire-place,  therefore  I  moved  off  some  distance,  where  I 
remained  until  I  killed  an  elk.  As  my  foot  was  yet  sore,  I 
concluded  that  I  would  stay  here  until  it  was  healed,  lest  by 
travelliiig  too  soon  it  might  again  be  inflamed. 

In  a  few  weeks  after  I  proceeded  on,  and  in  October  I 
arrived  in  Carolina.  I  had  now  been  eleven  months  in  the 
wilderness,  and  during  this  time  I  neither  saw  bread,  money, 
women,  nor  spirituous  liquors ;  and  three  months  of  which  I 
saw  none  of  the  human  species,  except  Jamie. 

When  I  came  into  the  settlement,  my  clothes  were  almost 
worn  out,  and  the  boy  had  nothing  on  him  that  ever  was  spun. 
He  had  buckskin  leggins,  moccasins,  and  breech-clout ;  a  bear- 
skin dressed  with  the  hair  on,  which  he  belted  about  him,  and 
a  racccon-skin  cap.  I  had  not  travelled  far  after  I  came  in 
before  I  yvas  strictly  examined  by  the  inhabitants.  I  told  them 
the  truth,  and  where  I  came  from,  &c.;  but  my  story  appeared 
so  strange  to  them  that  they  did  not  believe  me.  They  said 
that  they  had  never  heard  of  any  one  coming  through  the 
mountains  from  the  mouth  of  Tennessee,  and  if  any  one  would 
undertake  such  a  journey,  surely  no  man  would  lend  him  his 
slave.  They  said  that  they  thought  that  all  1  had  told  them  -f^'-j 
were  lies,  and  on  suspicion  they  look  me  into  custody,  and  ^^tw  ' 
a  guard  over  me.  -^^ 

While  I  was  confined  here,  I  met  with  a  reputable  old  'vf} 
acquaintance,  who  voluntarily  became  my  voucher,  and  also 
told  me  of  a  number  of  my  acquaintances  that  i^w  lived*near 
this  place,  who  had  moved  from  Pennsylvania;  qi|^  thi^ 
being  made  public  I  was  liberated.  went  to  a  magistrate  and 
obtained  a  pass,  and  one  of  my  old  acquaintances  made  me  avj 
present  of  «  '^hirt.    I  then  cast  away  my  old  rags ;  >(n^all  tt^- 

21 


^:t^ 


m.. 


m 


■i 


m 


m  >* 


242 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


•so 


clothes  I  now  had  was  an  old  beaver  hat,  buckskin  leggins,  moc- 
casins, and  a  new  shirt ;  also  an  old  blanket,  which  I  com- 
monly carried  on  my  back  in  good  weather.  Being  thus 
ev^uipped,  I  marched  on  with  my  white  shirt  loose,  and  Jamie 
with  his  bear-skin  about  him ;  myself  appearing  v.hite,  and 
Jamie  very  blach.  ^rmed  the  dogs  wherever  we  came,  so  that 
they  barked  vioK  v.  The  people  frequently  came  out  and 
asked  me  where  v/e  came  from,  &c.  I  told  them  the  truth,  but 
they  for  the  most  part  suspected  my  story,  and  I  generally 
had  to  show  them  my  pass.  In  this  way  I  came  on  to  fort 
Chisselt  where  I  left  Jamie  at  Mr.  Horion's  negro  quarter, 
according  to  promise.  I  went  from  thence  to  Mr.  George 
Adams's,  on  Reed  Creek,  where  I  had  lodged,  and  where  I 
had  left  my  clothes  as  I  was  going  out  from  home.  When  I 
dressed  myself  in  good  clothes,  and  mounted  on  horseback,  no 
mar  ever  ".sked  me  for  a  pass ;  therefore  I  concluded  that  a 
horse-ihief,  or  oven  a  robber,  might  pass  without  interruption, 
provided  he  was  only  well  dressed,  whereas  the  shabby  villian 
would  be  immediately  detected. 

I  returned  home  to  .Conococheegue  in  the  fall  of  1767. 
When  I  arrived,  I  found  that  my  wife  and  friends  had  despair- 
ed of  ever  seeing  me  again,  as  they  had  heard  that  I  was  killed 
by  the  Indians,  and  my  horse  brought  into  one  of  the  Chero- 
kee towns. 

In  the  year  1769,  the  Indians  again  made  incursions  on  the 
frontiers  ;  yet  the  traders  continued  carrying  goods  and  warlike 
stores  to  them.  The  frontiers  took  the  alarm,  and  a  number 
of  persons  collected,  destroyed  and  plundered  a  quantity  of 
their  powder,  lead,  &c.,  in  Bedford  county.  Shortly  after  this, 
some  of  these  persons,  with  others,  were  apprehended  and  laid 

■'-  in  irons  in  the  guard-house  in  fort  Bedford,  on  suspicion  of 
being  the^perpetrators  of  this  crime. 

^r  '  Though  I  did  not  altogether  approve  of  the  conduct  of  this 
new  club  of  black  boys,  yet  I  concluded  that  they  should  not 
lie  in  irons  in.  the  guard-house,  or  remain  in  confinement,  by 
arbitrary  or  military  power.     I  resolved,  therefore,  if  possible, 

■^      to  release  them,  if  they  even  should  be  tried  by  the  civil  law 

?  ^i^fterwards.     I  collected  eighteen  of  my  old  black  boys,  that  I 

:     had  seen  tried  in  the  Indian  war,  &c.     I  did  not  desire  a  large 

party,  lest  they  should  be  too  much  alarmed  at  Bedford,  and 

I       accordingly  prepared  for  us.     We  marched  along  the  public 

S     road  in  daylinHit,  and  made  no  secret  of  our  design.     We  told 

those  whom  we  met  that  we  were  going  to  take  fort  Bedford, 

^  which  appeared  to  them  a  very  unlikely  story.  Before  this,  I 
made  it  known  to  one  William  Thompson,  a  man  whom  I 
could  Juist,  aud  who  lived  there.    Him  I  employed  as  a  spy, 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


243 


,  moc- 
[  com- 
thus 
Jamie 
e,  and 
50  that 
it  and 
tth,  but 
nerally 
to  fort 
juarter, 
George 
vhere  I 
^hen  I 
back,  no 
i  that  a 
•ruption, 
y^  villian 

of  1767. 

despair- 

ras  killed 

e  Chero- 

is  on  the 
I  warlike 

immber 
aniity  of 
iftey  this, 

and  laid 
ipicion  of 

ct  of  this 
lould  not 
iment,  by 
possible, 
civil  law 
,ys,  that  I 
•e  a  large 
J  ford,  and 
ftie  public 
'  We  told 
Bedford, 
[ore  this,  I 
■whom  I 
as  a  spy, 


and  sent  him  along  on  horseback  before,  with  orders  to  meet 
me  at  a  certain  place  near  Bedford,  one  hour  before  day.  The 
next  day  a  little  before  sunset,  we  encamped  near  the  crossings 
of  Juniata,  about  fourteen  miles  from  Bedford,  and  erected 
tents,  as  though  we  intended  staying  all  night,  and  not  a  man 
in  my  company  knew  to  the  contrary,  save  myself.  Knowing 
that  they  would  hear  this  in  ^  edford,  and  wishing  it  to  be  the 
case,  I  thought  to  surprise  them  by  stealing  a  march. 

As  the  moon  rose  about  eleven  o'clock,  I  ordered  my  boys 
to  march ;  and  we  went  on  at  the  rate  of  five  miles  an  hour, 
until  we  met  Thompson  at  the  place  appointed.  He  told  us 
that  the  commanding  officer  had  frequently  heard  of  us  by  tra- 
vellers, and  had  ordered  thirty  men  upon  guard.  He  said  they 
knew  our  number,  and  only  made  game  of  the  notion  of  eigh- 
teen men  coming  to  rescue  the  prisoners,  but  they  did  not 
expect  us  until  towards  the  middle  of  the  day.  I  asked  him 
if  the  gate  was  open.     He  said  it  was  then  shut,  but  he  ex- 

Eected  they  would  open  it  as  usual  at  daylight,  as  they  appre- 
ended  no  danger.  I  then  moved  my  men  privately  up  under 
the  banks  of  Juniata,  where  we  lay  concealed  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  fort  gate.  I  had  ordered  the  men  to  keep 
a  profound  silence  until  we  got  into  it.  I  then  sent  off  Thomp- 
son again  to  spy.  At  daylight  he  returned,  and  told  us  that 
the  gate  was  open,  and  three  sentinels  were  standing  oii  the 
wall ;  that  the  guards  were  taking  a  morning  dram,  and  the 
arms  standing  together  in  one  place.  I  then  concluded  to  rush 
into  the  fort,  and  told  Thompson  to  run  before  me  to  the  arms. 
We  ran  with  all  our  might,  and  as  it  was  a  misty  morning,  the 
sentinels  scarcely  saw  us  until  we  were  within  the  gate,  and 
took  possession  of  the  arms.  Just  as  we  were  entering,  two  of 
them  discharged  their  guns,  though  I  do  not  believe  they  aimed 
at  us.  We  then  raised  a  shoui,  which  surprised  the  town, 
though  some  of  them  were  well  pleased  with  tlw  news.  We 
compelled  a  blacksmith  to  take  the  irons  off  the  prisoners,  and 
then  we  left  the  place.  This,  I  believe,  was  the  first  British 
fort  in  America  that  was  taken  by  what  they  called  American 
rebels. 

Some  time  after  this  I  took  a  journey  westward,  in  order  to^ 
survey  some  located  land  I  had  on  ana  near  the  Youhogany.  ) 
As  I  passed  nes^;  Bedford,  while  I  was  walking  and  leading 
my  horse,  I  was  overtaken  by  some  men  on  horseback,  like 
travellers.  One  of  them  asked  my  name,  and  on  telling  it, 
they  immediately  pulled  out  their  pistols,  and  presented  uem 
at  me,  calling  upon  me  to  deliver  myself,  or  I  was  a  dead  man. 
I  stepped  back,  presented  my  rifle,  and  told  them  to  stand  otT. 
On*i  of  them  snapped  a  pistol  at  me,  and  another  wa^repar- 


^     «^ 


> 


m 


.^ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


% 


ing  to  shoot,  when  I  fired  my  jtiece.  One  of  them  also  fired 
fiear  the  same  time,  and  one  of  my  fellow-travellers  fell.  The 
Assailants  then  rushed  tip,  and  as  my  gun  was  empty,  they  took 
and  tied  me.  I  charged  them  with  killing  my  fellow-traveller, 
and  told  them  he  was  a  man  that  I  had  acciaentally  met  with 
on  the  road,  that  had  notliing  to  do  with  the  public  quarrel. 
They  asserted  that  I  had  killed  him.  I  told  them  that  my  gun 
blowed,  or  made  a  slow  fire ;  that  I  had  her  from  my  face  be- 
fore she  went  off,  or  I  would  not  have  missf  d  my  mark ;  and 
from  the  position  my  piece  was  in  when  it  went  off,  it  was  not 
likely  that  my  gun  killed  this  man,  yet  I  acknowledged  I  was 
not  certain  that  it  was  not  so.  They  then  carried  me  to  Bed- 
ford, laid  me  in  irons  in  the  guard-house,  summoned  a  jury  of 
the  opposite  party,  and  held  an  inquest.  The  jury  brought  me 
in  guilty  of  wilful  murder.  As  they  were  afraia  to  keep  me 
long  in  Bedford,  for  fear  of  a  rescue,  they  sent  me  privately 
through  the  wilderness  to  Carlisle,  where  I  was  laid  in  heavy 
irons. 

Shortly  after  I  came  here,  we  heard  that  a  number  of  my  old 
black  boys  were  coming  to  tear  down  the  jail.  I  told  the  she- 
riff that  I  would  not  be  rescued,  as  I  knew  that  the  indictment 
was  wrong ;  therefore  I  wished  to  stand  my  trial.  As  I  had 
found  the  black  boys  to  be  always  under  good  command,  I 
expected  I  could  prevail  on  them  to  return,  and  therefore  wish- 
ed to  write  to  them  ;  to  this  the  sheriff  readily  agreed.  I  wrote 
a  letter  to  them,  with  irons  on  my  hands,  which  was  immedi- 
ately sent ;  but  as  they  had  heard  that  I  was  in  irons,  they 
would  come  on.  When  we  heard  they  were  near  the  town,  1 
told  the  sheriff  \  would  speak  to  them  out  of  the  window,  and 
if  the  irons  were  off  I  made  no  doubt  but  I  could  prevail  on 
them  to  desist.  The  sheriff  ordered  them  to  be  taken  off,  and 
just  as  they  were  taking  off  my  bands  the  black  boys  came 
running  up  tb  the  jail.  I  went  to  the  window  and  called  to 
them,  and  they  gave  attention.  I  told  them,  as  my  indictment 
was  for  wilful  mur-ler,  to  admit  of  being  rescued  would  appear 
dishonorable.  I  thank^^d  them  for  ^their  kind  intentions,  and 
told  them  the  greatest  favor  they  could  confer  upon  me  would 
%  be  to  grant  me  this  one  request,  to  withdraw  from  the  jail  and 
return  in  peace  ;  to  this  they  complied,  and  withdrew.  While 
I  waa.  speaking,  the  irons  were  taken  off'*  my  feel,  and  never 
again- put  on. 

Before  thii^arty  arrived  at  Conococheague,  they  met  about 
three  hundred  more  on  the  way,  coming  to  their  assistance,  and 
were  resolved  to  take  me  out ;  they  then  turned,  and  all  came 
together  to  Carlisle.  The  reason  they  gave  for  coming  again 
was,  betfjause  they  thought  that  government  was  so  enraged  at 


COLONEL    SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


246 


fired 
The 

jT  took 
rellcT, 
t  with 
larrel. 

ly  gun 
ice  be* 
:;  and 
iras  not 
1  I  was 
o  Bed- 
jury  of 
ght  mc 
eep  me 
rivately 
\  heavy 

f  my  old 

the  she- 

iictment 

Vs  I  had 

imand,  I 

ne  wish- 
1  wrote 

immedi- 

>ns,  they 
town,  1 
ow,  and 
•evail  on 

li  off,  and 
lys  came 

Icalled  to 
dictment 
id  appear 
ions,  and 
le  would 
jail  and 
While 
[nd  never 

let  about 
tance,  and 

all  came 
ling  again 
Inraged  at 


me,  that  I  would  not  get  a  fair  trial.     But  my  friends  and 
myself  together  again  prevailed  on  them  to  return  in  peace. 

At  this  time  the  public  papers  were  partly  filled  with  these 
occurrences.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  the  Pennsylva- 
nia Gazette,  No.  2132,  Nov.  2d,  1769. 

*^Conococheague,  October  16M,  1769. 

*  " Messrs.  Hall  &  Sellefj, 

"  Please  to  give  the  following  narrative  a  place  in  your  Ga- 
zette, and  you  will  much  oblige 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"William  Smith." 

"Whereas,  in  this  Gazette  of  September  28th,  1769,  there 
appeared  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  Bedford,  September  12th, 
1769,  relative  to  James  Smith,  as  being  apprehended  on  sus- 
picion of  being  a  black  boy,  then  killing  his  companion,  &c.,  I 
took  upon  myself,  as  bound  by  all  the  obligations  of  truth,  jus- 
tice to  character,  and  to  the  world,  to  set  that  matter  in  a  true 
light ;  by  which  I  hope  the  impartial  world  will  b?  enabled  t6 
obtain  a  more  just  opinion  of  the  present  scheme  of  acting  in 
this  end  of  the  country,  as  also  to  form  a  true  idea  of  the  truth, 
candor,  and  ingenuity  of  the  author  of  the  said  extract,  in 
stating  that  matter  in  so  partial  a  light.  The  state  of  the  case 
(which  can  be  made  appear  by  undeniable  evidence)  was  this. 
James  Smith,  (who  is  styled  the  principal  ringleader  of  the 
black  boys,  by  the  said  author,)  together  with  his  younger 
bri  ither  and  brother-in-law,  were  going  out  in  order  to  survey 
and  improve  their  land  on  the  waters  of  Youghoghany,  and  as 
the  time  cf  their  return  was  long,  they  took  with  them  their 
arms,  and  horses  loaded  with  the  necessaries  of  life ;  and  as 
one  of  Smith's  brothers-in-law  was  an  artist  in  aprveying,  he 
had  also  with  him  the  instruments  for  that  business.  Travel- 
ling on  the  way,  within  about  nine  miles  of  Bedford,  they 
overtook  and  joined  company  with  one  Johnson  and  Moorheaa, 
who  likewise  had  horses  *loaded,  part  of  which  loading  was 
liquor,  and  part  seed  wheat,  their  intentions  being  to  make 
improvements  on  their  lands.  When  they  arrived  at  the  part- 
ing of  the  road  on  ihis  side  Bedford,  the  company  separated. 
One  part  going  through  the  town,  in  order  to  get  a  horse%iod, 
were  apprehended,  and  put  under  confinementJ)ut  for  what 
crime  they  knew  not*,  and  treated  in  a  manner  utterly  incon- 
sistent with  the  laws  of  their  country  and  the  liberties  of 
Englishmen  ;  whilst  the  other  part,  viz.  James  Smith,  John- 
son, and  Moorhead,  taking  along  the  other  road,  were  met  by 

21*  .  *^ 


»  i 


',^-' 


*•• 


^ 


^• 


■^ 


.'■^ 


846 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


-■:i* 


^■ 


John  Holmes,  Esq.,  to  whom  James  Smith  spoke  in  a  friendly 
manner,  but  received  no  answer.  Mr.  Holmes  hasted,  and 
gave  an  alarm  in  Bedford,  from  whence  a  party  of  men  were 
sent  in  pursuit  of  them ;  but  Smith  and  his  companions  not 
having  the  least  thought  of  any  such  measures  being  taken, 
(why  should  they?)  travelled  slowly  on.  After  they  had  gain- 
ed the  place  where  the  roads  joined,  they  delayed  until  the 
other  part  of  their  company  should  come  up.  At  this  time  a 
number  of  men  came  riding,  like  men  travelling ;  they  asked 
Smith  his  name,  which  he  told  them ;  on  which  they  imme- 
diately assaulted  him  as  a  highwayman,  and  with  presented 
pistols  commanded  him  to  surrender  or  he  was  a  dead  man ; 
upon  which  Smith  stepped  back,  asked  them  if  they  were 
highwaymen,  charging  them  at  the  same  time  to  stand  off, 
when  immediately  Robert  George  (one  of  the  assailants) 
snapped  a  pistol  at  Smith's  head,  and  that  before  Smith  offered 
to  snoot,  (which  said  George  himself  acknowledged  upon  oath ;) 
whereupon  Smith  presented  his  gun  at  another  of  the  assail- 
ants, who  was  preparing  to  shoot  him  with  his  pistol.  The 
said  assailant  having  a  hold  of  Johnson  by  the  arm,  two  shots 
were  fired,  one  by  Smith's  gun,  the  oilier  from  a  pistol,  so 
quick  as  just  to  be  distinguishable,  and  Johnson  fell.  After 
which.  Smith  was  taken  and  carried  into  Bedford,  where  John 
Holmes,  Esq.,  the  informer,  held  an  inquest  on  the  corpse,  one 
of  the  assailants  being  as  an  evidence,  (nor  was  there  any  other 
troubled  about  the  matter.)  Smith  was  brought  in  guilty  of 
wilful  murder,  and  so  committed  to  prison.  But  a  jealousy 
arising  in  the  breasts  of  many,  that  the  inquest,  either  through 
inadvertency,  ignorance,  or  some  other  default,  was  not  so  fair 
as  it  ought  to  be,  William  Deny,  coroner  of  the  county,  upon 
requisition  made,  thought  proper  to  re-examine  the  matter,  and 
summoning  a  jury  of  unexceptionable  men  out  of  three  townships 
— men  whose  candor,  probity,  and  honesty,  is  unquestionable 
with  all  who  are  acquainted  with  them,  and  having  raised  the 
corpse,  held  an  inquest  in  a  solemn  manner  during  three  days. 
In  the  course  of  their  scrutiny  they  found  Johnson's  shirt 
blacked  about  the  bullet-hole  by  the  powder  of  the  charge  by 
which  he  was  killed,  whereupon  they  examined  into  the  dis- 
tance Smith  stood  from  Johnson  when  he  shot,  and  one  of  the 
assailants,  being  admitted  to  oath,  swore  to  the  respective  spots 
of  ground  they  both  stood  on  at  that  time,  which  the  jury  mea- 
sured, and  fopnd  to  be  twenty-three  feet  nearly ;  then,  trying 
the  experiment  of  shooting  at  the  same  shirt,  both  with  and 
against  the  wind,  and  at  the  same  distance,  found  no  eflTects, 
nor  the  least  stain  from  the  powder  on  the  shirt.  And  let  any 
person  that  pleases  make  the  experiment,  and  I  will  venture  to 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


847 


■iendly 

d,  and 

n  were 

jns  not 
taken, 

d  cain- 

itil  the 
time  a 

y  asked 

r  imme- 

■esentcd 

.d  man ; 

jy  were 

land  off, 

sailants) 

ti  offered 

m  oath ;) 

le  assail- 

)l.     The 

wo  shots 

jistol,  so 

1.     After 

ere  John 

rpse,  one 

\ny  other 

guilty  of 
jealousy 

f'  through 
ot  so  fair 
ity,  upon 
itter,  and 
own  ships 
•stionable 
aised  the 
iree  days. 
>n's  shirt 
;harge  by 
3  the  dis- 
ine  of  the 
tive  spots 
|ury  mea- 
3n,  trying 
with  and 
lO  effects, 
id  let  any 
enturc  to 


afRrm  he  shall  find  that  powder  will  not  stain  at  half  the  dia> 
tance  above  mentioned,  if  shot  out  of  a  rifle  gun,  which  Smith's 
was.  Upon  the  whole,  the  jury,  after  the  most  accurate  exa- 
mination and  mature  deliberation,  brought  in  their  verdict  that 
gome  one  of  the  assailants  themselves  must  necessarily  have 
been  the  perpetrators  of  the  murder. 

♦'  I  have  now  represented  the  matter  in  its  true  and  genuirje 
colors,  and  which  I  will  abide  by.  I  on)  /  beg  liberty  to  make 
a  few  remarks  and  reflections  on  the  above-mentioned  extract. 
The  author  says,  '  James  Smith,  with  two  others  in  company, 
passed  round  the  town,  without  touching,'  by  which  it  is  plam 
ne  would  insinuate,  and  make  the  public  believe,  that  Smith, 
and  that  part  of  the  company,  had  taken  some  by-road,  which 
is  utterly  false,  for  it  was  the  king's  highway,  and  the  straight- 
est,  that  through  Bedford  being  something  to  the  one  side ;  nor 
would  the  other  part  of  the  company  have  gone  through  the 
town  but  for  the  reason  already  given.  Again,  the  author  says 
that  •  four  men  were  sent  in  pursuit  of  Smith  and  his  com- 
panions, who  overtook  them  about  five  miles  from  Bedford,  and 
commanded  them  to  surrender,  on  which  Smith  presented  his 
gun  at  one  of  the  men,  who  was  struggling  with  his  companion, 
fired  it  at  him,  and  shot  his  companion  through  the  back.' 
Here  I  would  just  remark,  again,  the  unfair  and  partial  account 
given  of  this  matter  by  the  author.  Not  a  word  mentioned  of 
George  snapping  his  pistol  before  Smith  offered  to  shoot,  or  of 
another  of  the  assailants  actually  firing  his  pistol,  though  he 
confessed  himself  afterwards  he  had  done  so;  not  the  least 
mention  of  the  company's  baggage,  which,  to  men  in  the  least 
open  to  a  fair  inquiry,  would  have  been  sufficient  proof  of  the 
innocence  of  their  intentions.  Must  not  an  effusive  blush 
overspread  the  face  of  the  partial  representor  of  facts,  when  he 
finds  the  veil  he  had  thrown  over  truth  thus  pulled  aside,  and 
she  exposed  to  naked  view?  Suppose  it  should  bife  granted  that 
Smith  shot  the  man,  (which  is  not,  and  I  presume  never  can 
be  proved  to  be  the  case,)  I  would  only  ask,  was  he  not  on  his 
own  defence  '  Was  he  not  publicly  assaulted  ?  Was  he  not 
charged,  at  the  peril  of  his  life,  to  surrender,  without  knowing 
for  what?  no  warrant  being  shown  him,  or  any  declaration 
made  of  their  authority.  And  seeing  these  things  are  so,  would 
any  judicious  man,  any  person  in  the  least  acquainted  with  the 
laws  of  the  land,  or  morality,  judge  him  guilty  of  wilful  mur- 
der? But  I  humbly  presume  every  one  who  has  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  this  will,  by  this  time,  be  convinced  that  the 
proceedings  against  Smith  were  truly  unlawful  and  tyrannical, 
perhaps  unparalleled  by  any  instance  in  a  civilized  nation  ; — 
lor  to  endeavor  to  kill  a  man  in  the  apprehending  ol  him,  in 


m 


* 


i»-i; 
t^.%. 


■'^^.!l,* 


1 


# 


.-*'■: 


348 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


order  to  bring  him  to  trial  for  a  fact,  and  that  too  on  a  suppos- 
ed one,  is  undoubtedly  beyond  all  bounds  of  law  or  govern- 
ment. 

**  If  the  author  of  the  extract  thinks  I  have  treated  him  un- 
fair, or  that  1  have  advanced  any  thing  he  can  controvert,  let 
him  come  forward,  as  a  fair  antagonist,  and  make  his  defenre, 
and  I  will,  if  called  upon,  vindicate  all  that  I  have  advanced 
against  him  or  his  abettors. 

"William  Smith." 

I  remained  in  prison  four  months,  and  during  this  time  I 
often  thought  of  those  that  were  confined  in  the  time  of  the 
persecution,  who  declared  their  prison  was  converted  into  a  pal- 
ace. I  now  learned  what  this  meant,  as  I  never  since  or  before 
experienced  four  months  of  equal  happiness. 

when  the  supreme  court  sat,  I  was  severely  prosecuted. 
At  the  commencement  of  my  trial  the  judges,  in  a  very  unjust 
and  arbitrary  manner,  rejected  several  of  my  evidences  ;  yet, 
as  Robert  George  (one  of  those  who  was  in  the  afiray  when  I 
was  taken)  swore  in  court  that  he  snapped  a  pistol  at  me 
before  I  shot,  and  a  concurrence  of  corroborating  circumstan- 
ces amounted  to  strong  presumptive  evidence  that  it  could 
not  possibly  be  m}  gun  that  killed  Johnson,  the  jury,  without 
hesitation,  brought  in  their  verdict,  wot  guilty.  One  of  the 
judges  then  declared  that  not  one  of  this  jury  should  ever  hold 
an  office  above  a  constable.  Notwithstanding  this  proud,  ill- 
natured  declaration,  some  of  these  jurymen  afterwards  filled 
honorable  places,  and  I  myself  was  elected  the  next  year,  and 
sat  on  the  board"^  in  Bedford  county,  and  afterwards  I  served 
in  the  board  three  years  in  Westmoreland  county. 

In  the  year  1774,  another  Indian  war  commenced,  though 
at  this  time  the  white  people  were  the  aggressors.  The  pros- 
pect of  this  .terrified  the  frontier  inhabitants,  insomuch  that 
the  great  part  on  the  Ohio  waters  either  fled  over  the  moun- 
tains eastward  or  collected  into  forts.  As  the  state  of  Penn- 
sylvania apprehended  great  danger,  they  at  this  time  appoint- 
ed me  captain  over  what  was  then  called  the  Pennsylvania 
line.  As  they  knew  I  could  raise  men  that  would  answer 
their  purpose,  they  seemed  to  lay  aside  their  former  inveteracy. 

In  the  year  1776,  I  was  appointed  a  major  in  the  Pennsyl- 
vania association.  When  American  independence  was  de- 
clared, I  was  elected  a  member  of  the  convention  in  West- 
moreland county,  state  of  Pennsylvania,  and  of  the  Assembly, 
as  long  as  I  proposed  to  serve. 

*  A  board  of  commissioners  was  annually  elected  la  Pennsylvania  to 
regulate  taxes  and  lay  the  county  levy. 


■ii/i- 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


249 


suppos- 
govern- 

[lim  un- 
ivert,  lei 
defence, 
dvanced 

VIITH." 

s  time  I 
le  of  the 
ito  a  pal- 
or  before 

osecuted. 
;ry  unjust 
jces  ;  yet, 
ly  when  I 
tol  at  me 
rcumstan- 
t  it  could 
y,  without 
[ne  of  the 

ever  hold 
proud,  ill- 
irds  filled 

year,  and 
I  served 

jd,  though 
The  pros- 
much  that 
Lhe  moun- 
of  Penn- 
le  appoint- 
nnsylvania 
[id  answer 
inveteracy. 
Pennsyl- 
was   de- 
.  in  West- 
Assembly, 

isylvania  to 


While  I  attended  the  Assembly  in  Philadelphia,  in  the  year 
1777,  I  saw  in  the  street  some  of  my  old  boys,  on  their  way  to 
the  Jerseys,  against  the  British,  and  they  desired  me  to  ffo 
with  them ;  I  petitioned  the  house  for  leave  of  absence,  in 
order  to  head  a  scouting  party,  which  was  granted  me.  We 
marched  into  the  Jerseys,  and  went  before  General  Washing- 
ton's army,  waylaid  the  road  at  Rocky  Hill,  attacked  about 
two  hundred  of  the  British,  and  with  thirty-six  men  drove  them 
out  of  the  woods,  into  a  large  open  field.  After  this,  we  at- 
tacked a  party  that  were  guarding  the  officers'  baggage,  and 
took  the  wagon  and  twenty-two  Hessians ;  and  also  retook 
some  of  our  continental  soldiers,  which  they  had  with  tJ\em. 
In  a  few  days  we  killed  and  took  more  of  the  British  than  was 
of  our  party.  At  this  time  I  took  the  camp  fever,  and  was 
carried  in  a  stage  wagon  to  Burlington,  where  I  lay  unti)  I 
recovered.  When  I  took  sick,  my  companion.  Major  James 
M'Common,  took  the  command  of  the  party,  and  had  greater 
success  than  I  had.  If  every  officer,  and  his  party,  that  lifted 
arms  against  the  English,  had  fought  with  the  same  success 
that  Major  M'Common  did,  we  would  have  made  short  work 
of  the  British  war. 

When  I  returned  to  Philadelphia,  I  applied  to  the  Assembly 
for  leave  to  raise  a  battalion  of  riflemen,  which  they  appeared 
very  willing  to  grant,  but  said  they  could  not  do  it,  as  the 
power  of  raising  men  and  commissioning  officers  were  at  that 
time  committed  to  General  Washington  ;  therefore  they  ad- 
vised me  to  apply  to  his  excellency.  The  following  is  a  true 
copy  of  a  letter  of  recommendation  which  I  received  at  this 
time  from  the  council  of  safety  : 

"IN  COUNCIL  OF  SAFETY. 

^^Philadelphia,  February  10th,  ^'^11. 

"  Sir — Application  has  been  made  to  us  by  James  Smith,  Esq,  >  //  V.  est- 
moreland,  a  gentleman  well  acquainted  with  the  Indian  castom^  and 
their  manner  of  carrying  on  war,  for  leave  to  raise  a  battalion  of  marks- 
men, expert  in  the  use  of  rifles,  and  such  as  are  acquainted  with  the 
Indian  method  of  fighting,  to  be  dressed  entirely  in  their  fa:ihion,  for  the 
purpose  of  annoying  and  harassing  the  enemy  m  their  marches  and  en- 
campments. We  think  two  or  three  hundred  men  in  ihut  way  might  be 
very  useful.  Should  your  excellency  be  of  the  same  opinion,  and  direct 
such  a  corps  to  be  formed,  we  will  take  proper  measures  for  raising  the 
men  on  the  frontiers  of  this  state,  and  follow  such  other  directions  as 
your  excellency  shall  give  in  this  matter. 
"  To  his  Excellency,  General  Washington." 

"  The  foregoing  is  a  copy  of  a  letter  to  his  excellency,  General  'Wash- 
ington, from  the  council  of  safety. 

'*  Jacob  S.  Howelt.,  Secretary." 

After  this  I  received  another  letter  of  recommendation,  which 
is  as  follows ;—  .» 


& 


1 


<  250 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


Uiltl 


(. 


"  We,  whose  names  are  underwritten,  do  certify  that  James  Smith, 
(now  of  the  county  of  Westmoreland,)  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians 
in  an  expedition  before  General  Braddo-jli's  defeat,  in  the  year  1755,  and 
remained  with  them  until  the  year  1V60 ;  and  also  that  he  served  as 
ensign,  in  the  year  1763,  under  the  pay  of  the  province  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  as  lieutenant  in  the  year  1764,  ami  as  captain  in  the  year  1774  ;  and 
as  a  military  officer  he  has  sustained  a  good  character ;  and  we  do  recom- 
mend him  as  a  person  well  acquainted  with  the  Indians'  method  of  fight- 
ing, and,  in  our  humble  opinion,  exceedingly  fit  for  the  command  of  a 
ranging  or  scouting  party,  which  we  are  also  humbly  of  opinion  he  could, 
(if  legally  authorized,)  soon  raise.  Given  under  our  hands  at  Philadel- 
phia, this  13th  day  of  March,  1777. 


Thomas  Paxton,  Capt. 
William  Duffield,  £sq. 
David  Robb,  Esq. 
John  Piper,  Col. 
William  M'Comb, 
William  Pepper,  Lt.  Col. 
James  M'Lane,  Esq. 
John  Proctok,  Col, 


Jonathan  Hod^je,  Esq. 
William  Parkzr,  Capt. 
Robert  Elliot, 
Joseph  Armstrong,  Col. 
Robert  Peebles,  Lt.  Col. 
Samoel  Patton,  Capt. 
WiLi-iAM  Lyon,  Esq." 


With  these  and  some  other  letters  of  recommendation, 
which  I  have  not  now  in  my  possession,  I  went  to  his  excel- 
lency, who  lay  at  Morrislown.  Though  General  Washington 
did  not  fall  in  with  the  scheme  of  white  men  turning  Indians, 
yet  he  proposed  giving  me  a  major's  place  in  a  battalion  of 
riflemen  already  raised.  I  thanked  the  general  for  his  proposal, 
but  as  I  entertained  no  high  opinion  of  the  colonel  I  was  to 
serve  under,  and  with  whom  I  had  no  prospect  of  getting  my 
old  boys  again,  I  thought  I  would  be  of  more  use  in  the  cause 
we  were  then  struggling  to  support  to  remain  with  them  as  a 
militia  officer ;  therefore  I  did  not  accept  this  offer. 

In  the  year  1778, 1  received  a  colonel's  commission,  and 
after  my  return  to  Westmoreland  the  Indians  made  an  attack 
upon  our  frontiers.  I  then  raised  men  and  pursued  them,  and 
the  second  day  we  overtook  and  defeated  them.  We  likewise 
took  four  scalps,  and  recovered  the  horses  and  plunder  which 
they  were  carrying  off.  At  the  time  of  this  attack.  Captain 
John  Hinkston  pursued  an  Indian,  both  their  guns  being  empty, 
and  after  the  fray  was  over  he  was  missing.  While  we  were 
inquiring  about  him,  he  came  walking  up,  seemingly  uncon- 
cerned, with  a  bloody  scalp  in  his  hand  ;  he  had  pursued  the 
Indian  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  tomahawked  him. 

Not  long  after  this,  I  was  called  upon  to  command  four 
hundred  riflemen  on  an  expedition  against  the  Indian  town  on 
French  Creek.  It  was  some  time  in  November  before  I 
received  orders  from  General  M'Intosh  to  march,  and  then  we 
were  poorly  equipped  and  scarce  of  provision.  We  marched 
in  thj^ee  columns,  forty  rod  from  each  other.     There  were  also 


;ii^,ll'. 


COLONEL  SMITH'li  ADVENTURES. 


251 


Smith, 
imlians 
55,  and 
•ved  as 
rlvania, 
4;  and 
I  recom- 
jf  fight- 
Qd  of  a 
le  could, 
?hiladel- 


indation, 
is  excel- 
shington 

Indians, 
lalion  of 
proposal, 
1  was  to 

ting  my 
he  cause 

em  as  a 


flankers  on  the  outside  of  each  column,  that  marched  ahreast 
in  the  rear,  in  scattered  order ;  and  even  in  the  columns  the 
men  were  one  rod  apart ;  and  in  the  front  the  volunteers 
marched  abreast  in  the  same  manner  of  the  flankers,  scouring 
the  woods.  In  case  of  an  attack,  the  officers  were  immedi- 
ately  to  order  the  men  to  face  out  and  take  trees ;  in  this  posi- 
tion, the  Indians  could  not  avail  themselves  by  surrounding  us, 
or  have  an  opportunity  of  shooting  a  man  from  either  side 
of  the  tree.  If  attacked,  the  centre  column  was  to  reinforce 
whatever  part  appeared  to  require  it  most.  When  we  en- 
camped, our  encampment  formed  a  hollow  square,  including 
about  thirty  or  forty  acres ;  on  the  outside  of  the  square,  there 
were  sentinels  placed,  whose  business  it  was  to  watch  for  the 
enemy,  and  see  that  neither  horses  nor  bullocks  went  out ;  and 
when  encamped,  if  any  attacks  were  made  by  an  enemy,  each 
officer  was  immediately  to  order  the  men  to  face  out  and  take 
trees,  as  before  mentioned  ;  and  in  this  form,  they  could  not 
take  the  advantage  by  surrounding  us,  as  they  commonly  had 
done  when  they  fought  the  whites. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  general  orders,  given  at  this  time, 
which  I  have  found  among  my  journals  : 

"AT  CAMP— OPPOSITE  FORT  PITT. 

"  November  29th,  VnS.      - 
"general  orders.  fe 

"  A  copy  thereof  is  to  be  given  to  each  Captain  and  Stibaltem,  and  to  be  read 

to  each  Company. 

"  You  are  to  march  in  three  columns,  witn  flankers  on  the  front  and 
rear,  and  to  keep  a  profound  silence,  and  not  to  fire  a  gun,  except  at  the 
enemy,  without  particular  orders  for  that  purpose ;  and  in  case  of  an  attadc, 
let  it  be  so  ordered  that  every  other  man  only  is  to  shoot  at  once,  excepting 
on  extraordinary  occasions ;  the  one  half  of  the  men  to  keep  a  reserve 
fire  until  their  comrades  load ;  and  let  everyone  be  particularly  careful   -, 
not  to  fire  at  any  time  without  a  view  of  the  enemy,  and  that  not  at  too  -f^,, 
great  a  distance.    I  earnestly  urge  the  above  caution,  as  I  have  known  ''■ 
very  remarkable  and  giievous  errors  of  this  kind.    You  are  to  encamp 
on  the  hollow  square,  except  the  volunteers,  who,  according  to  their 
own  request,  are  to  encamp  on  the  front  of  the  square.     A  suffi- 
cient number  of  sentinels  are  to  be  kept  round  the  square  at  a  proper     ., 
distance.    Every  man  is  to  be  under  arms  a',  the  break  of  day,  and 
to  parade  opposite  to  their  fire-places,  facing  out,  and  when  the  officers 
examine  their  arms,  and  find  them  in  gocKl  order,  and  give  necessary 
directions,  they  are  to  be  dismissed,  Avith  orders  to  have  their  arms  near 
them,  and  be  always  in  readiness. 

"  Given  by 

"  James  Smith,  Colonel."      ". 


m 


In  this  manner,  we  proceeded  on  to  French  Creek,  \^hexe 


262 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


we  found  the  Indian  town  evacuated.  I  then  went  on  further 
than  my  orders  called  for,  in  quest  of  Indians  ;  but  our  pro- 
vision being  nearly  exhausted,  we  were  obliged  to  return. 
On  our  way  back  we  met  with  considerable  difficulties,  on 
account  of  high  waters  and  scarcity  of  provision ;  yet  we 
never  lost  one  horse,  excepting  some  that  gave  out. 

After  peace  was  made  with  the  Indians,  I  met  with  some  of 
them  in  Pittsburg,  and  inquired  of  them  in  their  own  tongue 
concerning  this  expedition,  not  letting  them  know  I  was  there. 
They  told  me  that  they  watched  the  movements  of  this  army 
ever  after  they  had  left  fort  Pitt,  and  as  they  passed  through 
the  glades  or  barrens  they  had  a  full  view  of  them  from  the 
adjacent  hills,  and  computed  their  number  to  be  about  one 
thousand.  They  said  they  also  examined  their  camps,  both 
before  and  after  they  were  gone,  and  found  they  could  not 
make  an  advantageous  attack,  and  therefore  moved  off  from 
their  town  and  hunting  ground  before  we  arrived. 

In  the  year  1788,  I  settled  in  Bourbon  county,  Kentucky, 
seven  miles  above  Paris,  and  in  the  same  year  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  convention  that  sat  at  Danville  to  confer  about 
a  separation  from  the  state  of  Virginia ;  and  from  that  year 
until  the  year  1799,  I  represented  Bourbon  county  either  in 
cenvention  or  as  a  member  of  the  General  Assembly,  except 
two  years  that  I  was  left  a  few  votes  behind. 


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♦♦ 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


253 


on 
we 


ON  THE  MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  OF  THE  INDIANS. 

The  Indians  are  a  slovenly  people  in  their  dress.  They 
seldom  ever  wash  their  shirts,  and  in  regard  to  cookery  they 
are  exceedingly  filthy.  When  they  kill  a  buffalo  they  wiU 
sometimes  lash  the  paunch  of  it  round  a  sapling,  and  cast  it 
into  the  kettle,  boil  it,  and  sup  the  broth ;  though  they  com- 
monly shake  it  about  in  cold  water,  then  boil  and  eat  it.  Not- 
withstanding all  this,  they  are  very  polite  in  their  own  way, 
and  they  retain  among  them  the  essentials  of  good  manners ; 
though  they  have  few  compliments,  yet  they  are  complaisant 
to  one  another,  and  when  accompanied  with  good  humor  and 
discretion,  they  entertain  strangers  in  the  best  manner  their 
circumstances  will  admit.  They  use  but  few  titles  of  honor. 
In  the  military  line  the  titles  of  great  men  are  only  captains 
or  leaders  of  parties.  In  the  civil  line,  the  titles  are  only 
counsellors,  chiefs,  or  the  '^Id  wise  men.  These  titles  are 
never  made  •  use  of  in  addressing  any  of  their  great  men. 
The  language  commonly  made  use  of  in  addressing  them  is 
grandfather,  father,  or  uncle.  They  have  no  such  thing  in 
use  among  them  as  Sir,  Mr.,  Madam,  or  Mistress.  The  com- 
mon mode  of  address  is,  my  friend,  brother,  cousin,  or^ 
mother,  sister,  &c.  They  pay  great  respect  to  age,  or  to  the  i 
aged  fathers  and  mothers  among  them  of  every  rank.  No 
one  can  arrive  at  any  place  of  honor  among  them  but  by  merit. 
Either  some  exploit  in  war  must  be  performed  before  any  one 
can  be  advanced  in  the  military  line,  or  become  eminent  for 
wisdom  before  they  can  obtain  a  seat  in  conncil.  It  would 
appear  to  the  Indians  a  most  ridiculous  thing  to  see  a  man 
lead  on-^  company  of  warriors,  as  an  officer,  who  had  himself 
never  been  in  a  battle  in  his  life.  Even  in  case  of  merit  they 
are  slow  in  advancing  any  one,  until  they  arrive  at  or  near 
middle  age. 

They  invite  every  one  that  comes  to  their  house  or  camp  to 
eat,  wnile  they  have  any  thing  to  give ;  and  it  is  accounted 
bad  manners  to  refuse  eating  when  invited..  They  are  very 
tenacious  of  their  old  mode  of  di;essing  and  painting,  and  do 
not  change  leu  fashions  as  we  do.  They  are  very  fond  of 
tobacco,  and  the  men  almost  all  smoke  it  mixed  with  sumach 
leaves  or  red  willow  bark,  pulverized,  though  they  seldom  use 
it  in  any  other  way.  They  make  use  of  the  pipe  also  as  a 
token  of  love  and  friendship. 

In  courtship  they  also  differ  from  us.  It  is  a  common  thing 
among  them  for  a  young  woman,  if  in  love,  to  make  suit  to  a 
young  man ;  though  the  first  address  may  be  by  the  m^i,  yet 

22  -  # 


".^- 


254 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


the  other  is  the  most  common.  The  squaws  are  generally 
very  immodest  in  their  words  aiid  actions,  and  will  often  put  the 
young  men  to  the  blush.  The  men  commonly  appear  to  be 
possessed  of  much  more- modesty  than  the  women  ;  yet  1  have 
been  acquainted  with  some  young  squaws  that  appeared  really 
modest:  genuine  it  must  be,  s  they  were  imder  very  little 
restraint  in  the  channel  of  edwcption  or  custom. 

When  the  Indians  meet  om-  anjther,  instead  of  saying  how 
do  you  do,  they  commonly  tilute  in  the  following  manner: 
you  are  my  friend — the  reply  is,  truly  friend,  I  am  your  friend; 
or,  cousin,  you  yet  exist — ^the  reply  is,  certainly  I  do.  They 
have  their  children  under  tolerable  command ;  seldom  ever 
whip  them,  and  their  common  mode  of  chastising  is  by  duck- 
ing them  in  cold  water ;  therefore  their  children  are  more 
obedient  in  the  winter  season  than  they  are  in  the  summer, 
though  they  are  then  not  so  often  ducked.  They  are  a  peaceable 
people,  and  scarcely  ever  wrangle  or  scold,  when  sober ;  but 
they  are  very  much  addicted  to  drinking,  and  men  and  women 
will  become  basely  intoxicated,  if  they  can  by  any  means  procure 
or  obtain  spirituous  liquor,  and  then  they  are  commonly  either 
extremely  merry  and  kind,  or  very  turbulent,  ill-humored  and 
disorderly. 


i-'wr'**^ 


ON   THEIR   TRADITIONS   AND   RELIGIOUS   SENTIMENTS. 

As  the  family  that  I  was  adopted  into  was  intermarried  with 
the  Wyandots  and  Ottawas,  three  tongues  were  commonly 
spoken,  viz.  :  Caughnewaga,  or  what  the  French  call  Iroque, 
also  the  Wyandot  and  Ottawa.  By  this  means  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  learning  these  three  tongues  ;  and  I  found  that  these 
nations  varied  in  their  traditions  and  opinions  concerning  reli- 
gion ;  and  even  numbers  of  the  same  nation  differed  widely  in 
Qieir  religious  sentiments.  Their  traditions  are  vague,  whim- 
sical, romantic,  and  many  of  them  scarce  worth  relating,  and 
not  any  of  them  reach  back  to  the  creation  of  the  world.  The 
Wyandots  come  the  nearest  to  this.  They  tell  of  a  squaw 
tnat  was  found  when  an  infant  in  the  water,  in  a  canoe,  made 
of  bulrushes.  This  squaw  became  a  great  prophetess,  and  did 
many  wonderful  things  :  she  turned  water  into  dry  land,  and  at 
length  made  this  continent,  which  was  at  that  time  only  a  very 
small  island,  and  but  a  few  Indians  in  it.  Though  they  were 
then  but  few,  they  had  not  sufficient  room  to  hunt;  therefore 
this  squaw  yvent  to  the  water-side,  and  prayed  that  this  little 
island  might  be  enlarged.  The  Great  Being  then  heard  her 
prayer,  and  sent  great  numbers  of  water  tortoises  and  musk- 
rats,  which  brought  with  thi§m  ipud  and  other  mater  .als  ^ 


jife 


INDIAN  CUSTOMS. 


255 


enlarging  this  island,  and  by  this  means,  they  say,  it  was 
increased  to  the  size  that  it  now  remains  ;  therefore,  they  say, 
that  the  white  people  ought  not  to  encroach  upon  them,  or  take 
their  land  from  them,  because  their  great  grandmother  made 
it.  They  say  that  about  this  time  the  angels  or  heavenly 
inhabitants,  as  they  call  them,  frequently  visited  them  and 
talked  with  their  forefathers,  and  gave  directions  how  to  pray, 
and  how  to  appease  the  Great  Being  when  he  was  offended. 
They  told  them  they  were  to  offer  sacrifice,  burn  tobacco,  buf- 
falo and  deer  bones ;  but  they  were  not  to  burn  bear's  or 
raccoon's  bones  in  sacrifice. 

The  Ottawas  say  that  there  are  two  Great  Beings  that 
govern  and  rule  the  universe,  who  are  at  war  with  each  other ; 
the  one  they  call  Maneto,  and  the  other  Matchemaneto.  They 
say  that  Maneto  is  all  kindness  and  love,  and  that  Matche- 
maneto is  an  evil  spirit,  that  delights  in  doing  mischief;  and 
some  of  them  think  that  they  are  equal  in  power,  and  there- 
fore worship  the  evil  spirit  out  of  a  principle  of  fear.  Others 
doubt  which  of  he  two  may  be  the  m©st  powerful,  and  there- 
fore endeavor  to  keep  in  favor  with  both,  by  giving  each  of 
them  some  kind  of  worship.  Others  say  that  Maneto  is  the 
first  great  cause,  and  therefore  must  be  all  powerful  and  su- 

Sreme,  and  ought  to  be  adored  and  worshipped,  whereas 
latchemaneto  ought  to  be  rejected  and  despised. 
Those  of  the  Ottawas  that  worship  the  evil  spirit  pretend 
to  be  great  conjurors.  I  think  if  there  is  any  such  thing  now 
in  the  world  as  witchcraft  it  is  among  these  people.  I  have 
been  told  wonderful  .stories  concerning  their  proceedings,  but 
never  was  eye-witness  to  any  thing  that  appeared  evidently 
supernatural. 

Some  of  the  Wyandots  and  Caughnewagas  profess  to  be 
Roman  Catholics;  but  even  these  retain  many  of  the  notions 
of  their  ancestors.  Those  of  them  who  reject  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  hold  that  there  is  one  great  first  cause,  whom 
they  call  Owaneeyo,  that  rules  and  governs  the  universe,  and 
takes  care  of  all  his  creatures,  rational  and  irrational,  and  gives 
them  their  food  in  due  season,  and  hears  the  prayers  of  all 
those  that  call  upon  him ;  therefore  it  is  but  just  and  reasona- 
ble to  pray,  and  offer  sacrifice  to  this  Great  Being,  and  to  do 
those  things  that  are  pleasing  in  his  sight;  but  they  differ 
widely  in  what  is  pleasing  or  displeasing  to  this  Great  Being. 
Some  hold  that  following  nature  or  their  own  propensities  is 
the  way  to  happiness,  and  cannot  be  displeasing  to  the  Deity, 
because  he  delights  in  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  and  does 
nothing  in  vain,  but  gave  these  dispositions  with  a  design  to 
lead  to  happiness,  and  therefore  they  ought  to  be  followed. 


<^J> 


w 


W 


■Mm   ^-^^-A-fttH-H^,, 


256 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


lit! 


•^ 


'fe 


Others  reject  this  opinion  altogether,  and .  say  that  following 
their  own  propensities  in  this  manner  is  neither  the  means  of 
happiness  nor  the  way  to  please  the  Deity. 

Tecaughretanego  was  of  opinion  that  following  nature  ir  a 
limited  sense  was  reasonable  a>;d  right.  He  said  that  i/to»t 
of  the  irrational  animals,  by  following  their  natural  propen- 
sities, were  led  to  the  greatest  pitch  of  happiness  that  ih-^^ir 
natures  and  the  world  they  lived  in  would  idmit  of  He  said 
that  mankind  ond  the  rattlesnakes  had  evil  dispositiens,  thtu 
led  them  to  injure  themselves  and  others.  He  gave  instances 
of  thi;«.  He  said  he  had  a  puppy  ^i  at  he  did  not  intend  to 
raise,  and  in  order  to  try  an  experiment  he  tied  this  puppy  on 
a  polfc,  nnd  held  it  to  a  rattlesnake,  wbi- h  bit  it  fi"veral  limes ; 
thai  he  observed  the  snake  shortly  after  rolling  aboat  \ppar- 
ently  in  great  misory,  so  that  it  appeared  to  have  poiooned 
itself  as  well  as  tl  e  puppy.  The  other  instance  he  gave  »vag 
concerning  himself,  lie  ■lid  tIio\  when  he  was  a  young  man 
he  was  very  fond  of  tliL^  ^^omcn,  and  at  length  got  tne  venereal 
disease,  so  that,  by  foiiOvving  this  propensity,  he  was  led  to 
injure  himself  and  olht-rs.  He  said  our  happiness  depends  on 
r,  our  using  our  reason,  in  order  to  suppress  these  evil  disposi- 
tions ;  but  when  our  propensities  neither  lead  us  to  it.jure 
ourselves  nor  others  we  might  with  safety  indulge  them,  or 
even  pursue  them  as  the  means  of  happiness. 

The  Indians,  generally,  are  of  opinion  that  thore  are  great 
numbers  of  inferior  deities,  which  they  call  Carreyagaroona, 
which  signifies  the  heavenly  inhabitants.  These  beings  they 
suppose  are  employed  as  assistants  in  managing  the  affairs  of 
the  universe,  and  in  inspecting  the  actions  of  men ;  and  that 
even  the  irrational  animals  are  engaged  in  viewing  their 
actions,  and  bearing  intelligence  to  the  gods.  The  eagle,  for 
this  puirpose,  wiih  her  keen  eye,  is  soaring  about  in  the  day, 
and  the  owl,  with  her  nightly  eye,  perched  on  the  trees  around 
their  camp  in  the  night ;  therefore,  when  they  observe  the 
''^  eagle  or  the  owl  near  they  immediately  offer  sacrifice,  or  burn 
^^,,'  tobacco,  that  they  may  have  a  good  report  to  carry  to  the  gods. 
They  say  that  there  are  also  great  numbers  of  evil  spirits, 
which  they  call  Onasahroona,  which  signifies  the  inhabitants 
of  the  lower  region.  These,  they  say,  are  employed  in  dis- 
turbing the  world,  and  the  good  spirits  are  always  going  after 
them,  and  setting  things  right,  so  that  they  are  constantly 
working  ia  opposition  to  each  other.  '  Some  talk  of  a  future 
state,  but  not  with  any  certainty ;  at  best  their  notions  are 
vague  and  unsettled.  Others  deny  a  future  state  altogether, 
and  say  that,  after  death,  they  neither  think  nor  live. 

As  tne  Caughne\^agas  and  the  Six  Nations  speak  nearly 


*<3 


..;>' 


INDIAN  CUSTOMS. 


257 


the  same  language,  their  theology  is  also  nearly  alike.  When 
I  met  with  the  Shawanees,  or  Delawares,  as  I  could  not  speak 
their  tongue,  I  spoke  Ottawa  to  them,  and  as  it  bore  some 
resemblance  to  their  language,  we  understood  each  other  in 
some  common  affairs  ;  but,  as  I  could  only  converse  with  them 
very  imperfectly,  I  cannot  from  my  own  knowledge,  with  cer- 
?  \inty,  give  any  account  of  their  theological  opinions. 


le 


rrcat 
oona, 

they 

rs  of 
that 

their 

for 

day, 

round 
;  the 
burn 
gods. 

spirits, 
itants 

,n  dis- 
after 
tantly 
future 
IS  are 
rether, 

Inearly 


ON  THEIR  POLICE,  OR  CIVIL  GOVERNMENT. 

I  have  often  heard  of  Indian  kings,  but  never  saw  any. 
How  any  term  used  by  the  Indians  in  their  own  tongue,  for 
the  chief  man  of  a  nation,  could  be  rendered  king,  I  know  not. 
The  chief  of  a  nation  is  neither  a  supreme  ruler,  monarch,  or 
*1  potentate ;    he  can  neither   make  war  or  peace,  leagues  or 

treaties ;  he  cannot  impress  soldiers,  or  dispose  of  magazines ; 
he  cannot  adjourn,  prorogue,  or  dissolve  a  general  assembly, 
nor  can  he  refuse  his  assejit  to  their  conclusions,  or  in  any 
manner  control  them.  With  them  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
hereditary  succession,  title  of  nobility,  or  royal  blobd,  even 
talked  of.  The  chief  of  a  nation,  even  with  the  consent  of  his 
assembly,  or  council,  cannot  raise  one  shilling  of  tax  off  the 
citizens,  but  only  receive  what  they  please  to  give  as  free  an4'« 
voluntary  donations.  The  chief  of  a  nation  has  to  hunt  fo/  -^ 
his  living  as  any  other  citizen.  Hov;  then  can  they,  with  any 
propriety,  be  called  kings  ?  I  apprehend  that  the  white  people 
were  formerly  so  fond  of  the  name  of  kings,  and  so  ignorant  of 
their  power,  that  they  concluded  the  chief  man  of  a  nation 
must  be  a  king. 

As  they  are  illiterate,  they  consequently  have  no  written 
code  of  laws.  What  they  execute  as  laws  are  either  old  cus- 
toms, or  the  immediate  result  of  new  councils.  Some  %f  their 
ancient  laws  or  customs  are  very  pernicious,  and  disturb  the 
public  weal.  Their  vague  law  of  marriage  is  a  glaring  in- 
stance of  this,  as  the  man  and  his  wife  are  under  no  legal 
obligation  to  live  together  if  they  are  both  willing  to  part. 
They  have  little  form  or  ceremony  among  them  in  matrimony, 
but  do  like  the  Israelites  of  old ;  the  man  goes  in  unto  the 
woman,  and  she  becomes  his  wife.  The  years  of  puberty,  and 
the  age  of  consent,  is  about  fourteen  for  the  women,  and 
eighteen  for  the  men.  Before  I  was  taken  by  the  Indians,  I 
had  often  heard  that  in  the  ceremony  of  marriage,  the  man 
gave  the  woman  a  deer's  leg,  and  she  gave  him  a  red  ear  of 
corn,  signifying  that  she  was  to  keep  him  in  bread,  and  he  was 
to  keep  her  in  meat.  I  inquired  of  them  concerning  the  truth 
of  this,  and  they  said  they  knew  nothing  .of  it,  further  than 
22* 


«t* 


il 


258 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


that  they  had  heard  it  was  the  ancient  custom  among  some 
nations.  Their  frequent  changing  of  partners  prevents  propa- 
gation, creates  disturbances,  and  often  occasions  murder  and 
bloodshed,  though  this  is  commonly  committed  under  the  pre- 
tence of  being  drunk.  TLeir  impunity  to  crimes  committed 
when  intoxicated  with  spirituous  liquors,  or  their  admitting 
one  crime  as  an  excuse  for  another,  is  u  very  unjust  law  or 
custom. 

The  extremes  they  run  into  in  dividing  the  necessaries  of 
life  are  hurtful  to  the  public  weal ;  though  their  dividing  meat 
when  hunting  may  answer  a  valuable  purpose,  as  one  family 
may  have  success  one  day,  and  the  other  the  next ;  but  their 
carrying  this  custom  to  the  town,  or  to  agriculture,  is  striking 
at  the  root  of  industry,  as  industrious  persons  ought  to  be 
rewarded,  and  the  lazy  suffer  for  their  indolence. 

They  have  scarcely  any  penal  laws ;  the  principal  punish- 
ment is  degrading ;  even  murder  is  not  punished  by  any  for- 
mal law,  only  the  friends  of  the  murdered  are  at  liberty  to  slay 
the  murderer  if  some  atonement  is  not  made.  Their  not  an- 
nexing penalties  to  their  laws  is  perhaps  not  as  great  a  crime, 
or  as  unjust  and  cruel,  as  the  bloody  laws  of  England,  which 
we  have  so  long  shamefully  practised,  and  which  are  to  be  in 
^/4brce  in  this  state  until  our  penitentiary  house  is  finished, 
f.1l1^hich  is  now  building,  and  then  they  are  to  be  repealed. 

Let  us  also  take  a  view  of  the  advantages  attending  Indian 
police :  They  are  not  oppressed  or  perplexed  with  expensive 
litigation ;  they  are  not  injured  by  legal  robbery ;  they  have 
no  splendid  villains  that  make  themselves  grand  and  great 
upon  other  people's  labor ;  they  have  neither  church  nor  state 
erected  as  money-making  machines. 


¥^ 


ON  THEIR  DISCIPLINE  AND  METHOD  OF  WAR. 


...  •>% 


I  have  often  heard  the  British  ofHcers  call  the  Indians  the 
undisciplined  savages,  which  is  a  capital  mistake,  as  they  have 
all  the  essentials  of  discipline.  They  are  under  good  com- 
mand, and  punctual  in  obeying  orders ;  they  can  act  in  con- 
cert, and  when  their  officers  lay  a  plan  and  give  orders,  they 
will  cheerfully  unite  in  putting  all  their  directions  into  imme- 
diate execution ;  and  by  each  man  observing  the  motion  or 
movement  of  his  right-hand  companion,  they  can  communicate 
the  motion  from  right  to  left,  and  march  abreast  in  concert,  and 
in  scattered  order,  though  the  line  may  be  more  than  a  mile 
long,  and  continue,  if  occasion  requires,  for  a  considerable 
distance,  without  disorder  or  confusion.  They  can  perform 
various  necessary  manoBuvres,  either  slowly,  or  as  fast  as  they 


# 


»■ 


some 
iTopa- 
r  and 
B  pre- 
Tiitted 
litting 
aw  or 

ries  of 
r  meat 
family 
It  their 
triking 
t  to  be 

punish- 
iny  for- 
to  slay 
not  an- 
i  crime, 
[,  which 
to  he  in 
Snishcd, 

Indian 

jensive 

y  have 

id  great 

lor  state 


ians  the 
,ey  have 
od  com- 
in  con- 
rs,  they 
0  imme- 
lotion  or 
tiunicate 
ert,  and 
"n  a  mile 
iiderable 
perform 
as  they 


INDIAN  CUSTOMS. 


269 


can  run ;  they  can  form  a  circle  or  semicircle.  The  circle 
they  make  use  of  in  order  to  surround  their  enemy,  and  the 
semicircle  if  th«  enemy  has  a  river  on  one  side  of  them. 
They  can  also  form  a  large  hollow  square,  face  out  and  take 
trees ;  this  they  do  if  their  enemies  are  about  surrounding 
them,  to  prevent  being  shot  from  either  side  of  the  tree.  When 
they  go  into  battle  they  are  not  loaded  or  encumbered  with 
many  clothes,  as  they  commonly  fight  naked,  save  only  breech- 
clout,  leggins,  and  moccasins.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  cor- 
poreal punishment  used  in  order  to  bring  them  under  such 
good  discipline  ;  degrading  is  the  only  chastisement,  and  they 
are  so  unanimous  in  this  that  it  efTectually  answers  the  pur- 
pose. Their  officers  plan,  order,  md  conduct  matters  until 
they  are  brought  into  action,  and  then  each  man  is  to  fight  as 
though  he  was  to  gain  the  battle  himself.  General  orders  are 
commonly  given  in  time  of  battle  either  to  advance  or  retreat, 
and  is  done  by  a  shout  or  yell,  which  is  well  understood,  and 
then  they  retreat  or  advance  in  concert.  They  are  generally 
well  equipped,  and  exceedingly  expert  and  active  in  the  use  of 
arms.  Could  it  be  supposed  that  undisciplined  troops  could 
defeat  Generals  Braddock,  Grant,  &c.  ?  It  may  be  said  by 
some  that  the  French  were  also  engaged  in  this  war.  True, 
they  were ;  yet  I  know  it  was  the  Indians  that  laid  the  plan, 
and  with  small  assistance  put  it  into  execution.  The  Indians 
had  no  aid  from  the  French,  or  any  other  power,  when  they 
besieged  fort  Pitt  in  the  year  1763,  and  cut  off  the  communi- 
cation for  a  considerable  time  between  that  post  and  fort 
Loudon,  and  would  have  defeated  General  Bouquet's  army 
(who  were  on  the  way  to  raise  the  siege)  had  it  not  been  for 
the  assistance  of  the  Virginia  volunteers.  They  had  no  Brit- 
ish troops  wi  them  when  they  defeated  Colonel  Crawford, 
near  the  Sanausky,  in  the  time  of  the  American  war  with 
Great  Britain ;  or  when  they  defeated  Colonel  Loughrie,  on  the 
Ohio,  near  the  Miami,  on  his  way  to  meet  General  Clarke : 
this  was  also  in  the  time  of  the  British  war.  It  was  the  In- 
dians alone  that  defeated  Colonel  Todd,  in  Kentucl:y,  near  the 
Blue  Licks,  in  the  year  1782 ;  and  Colonel  Harmer,  betwixt 
•the  Ohip  and  lake  Erie,  in  the  year  1790,  and  General  St. 
Clair,  in  the  year  1791 ;  and  it  is  said  that  therp  were  more  of 
our  men  killed  at  this  defeat  than  there  were  in  any  one  battle 
during  our  contest  with  Great  Britain.  They  had  no  aid 
when  they  fought  even  the  Virginia  riflemen,  almost  a  whoj^e 
day,  at  the  Great  Kenhawa,  in  the  year  1774 ;  and  when  they 
found  they  could  not  prevail  against  the  Virginians  they  made 
a  most  artful  retreat.  Notwithstanding  they  had  the  Ohio  to 
cross,  some  continued 


firing 


whilst  others  were  crossing  the 


1 

w 

1 

'Iv' 

'(1 

''ill 

1 

i 


a 


fido 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


i.  : 

Id 


river;  in  this  manner  they  proceeded,  until  they  all  got  over, 
before  the  Virginians  knew  that  they  had  retreated,  and  in  this 
retreat  they  carried  off  all  their  wounded.  In  the  most  of  the 
feregoing  aefeats  they  fought  with  an  inferior  number,  though 
in  this,  I  believe,  it  was  not  the  case. 

Nothing  can  be  more  unjustly  represented  than  the  different 
accounts  we  have  had  of  their  number,  from  time  to  time,  both 
by  their  own  computations,  and  that  of  the  British.  While  I 
was  among  them  I  saw  the  account  of  the  number  that  they, 
in  those  parts,  gave  to  the  French,  and  kept  it  by  me.  When 
they,  in  their  own  council-house,  were  taking  nn  account  of 
their  number,  with  a  piece  of  bark,  nev/ly  stripped,  and  a  small 
stick,  which  answered  the  end  of  a  slate  and  pencil,  I  took  an 
account  of  the  different  nations  and  tribes,  which  I  added  to- 

f  ether,  and  found  there  were  not  half  the  number  which  they 
ad  given  the  French ;  and  though  they  were  then  their  allies, 
and  lived  among  them,  it  was  not  easy  finding  out  the  decep- 
tion, as  they  were  a  wandering  set,  and  some  of  them  almost 
always  in  the  woods  hunting.  I  asked  one  of  the  chiefs  what 
was  their  reason  for  making  such  different  returns.  He  said 
it  was  for  political  reasons,  in  order  to  obtain  greater  presents 
from  the  French,  by  telling  them  they  could  not  divide  such 
■fend  such  quantities  of  goods  among  so  many. 

In  the  year  of  General  Bouquet's  last  campaign,  1764,  I 
saw  the  official  return  made  by  the  British  officers  of  the  num- 
ber of  Indians  that  were  in  arms  against  us  that  year,  which 
amounted  to  thirty  thousand.  As  I  was  then  a  lieutenant  in 
the  British  service,  I  told  them  I  was  of  opinion  that  there 
Was  not  above  one  thousand  in  arms  against  us,  as  they  were 
divided  by  Broadstreet's  army,  being  then  at  lake  Erie.  The 
British  officers  hooted  at  me,  and  said  they  could  not  make 
England  sensible  of  the  difficulties  they  labored  under  in 
fighting  them,  as  England  expected  that  their  troops  could 
fight  the  undisciplined  savages  in  America  five  to  one,  as  they 
did  the  East  Indians,  and  therefore  my  report  would  not  an- 
swer their  purpose,  as  they  could  not  give  an  honorable  account 
of  the  war  but  by  augmenting  their  number.  I  am  of  opinion 
that  from  Braddock's  war  until  the  present  time  there  never 
Were  more  than  three  thousand  Indians,  at  any  time,  in  arms 
agdinst  us  west  of  fort  Pitt,  and  frequently  not  half  that  num- 
ber. According  to  the  Indians'  own  accounts,  during  the 
whole  of  Btaddock's  war,  or  from  1765  till  1768,  they  killed 
■jr  took  fifty  of  our  people  for  one  that  they  lost.  In  the  war 
thdt  commenced  ih  the  year  1763  they  killed  comparatively 
few  of  oUr  peoplfe,  and  Ic  t  more  of  theirs,  as  the  frontiers 
(especially  the  VirginiansJ  had  learned  something  of  their 


«-^' 


INDIAN  CUSTOMS. 


261 


>ver, 
this 
rihe 
)ugh 

BTent 
both 
nile  I 
they, 
yhen 
int  of 
small 
ok  an 
ed  to- 
1  they 
allies, 
decep- 
almost 
s  what 
le  said 
resents 
e  such 


method  of  war ;  yet  they,  in  this  war,  according  to  their  own 
accounts,  (which  I  believe  to  be  true,)  killed  or  took  ten  of  our 
people  for  one  they  lost. 

Let  us  now  take  a  view  of  the  blood  and  treasure  that  was 
spent  in  opposing  comparatively  a  few  Indian  warriors,  with 
only  some  assistance  from  the  French,  the  first  four  years  of 
the  war.  Additional  to  the  amazing  destruction  and  slaughter 
that  the  frontiers  sustained  from  James  river  fo  Susquehanna, 
and  about  thirty  miles  broad,  the  following  campaigns  were 
also  carried  on  against  the  Indians  :  General  Braddock's,  in 
the  year  1755;  Colonel  Armstrong's,  against  the  Caitanyan 
town  on  the  Alleghany,  1757  ;  Gen.  Forbes's,  in  175S;  Gen. 
Stanwick's,  in  1759;  General  Monkton's,  in  1760;  Colonel 
Bouquet's,  in  1761  and  1763,  when  he  fought  the  battle  of 
Brushy  Run,  and  lost  above  one  hundred  men,  but,  by  the 
assistance  of  the  Virginia  volunteers,  drove  the  Indians ;  Col. 
Armstrong's,  up  the  west  branch  of  Susquehanna,  in  1763 ; 
General  Broadstreet's,  up  lake  Erie,  in  1764 ;  Gen.  Bouquet's 
against  the  Indians  at  Muskingum,  1764 ;  Lord  Dunmore's,  in 
1774;  Gen.  M'Intosh's,  in  1778;  Colonel  Crawford's,  shortly 
after  his ;  Gen.  Clarke's,  in  1778,  1780 ;  Colonel  Bowman's, 
in  1779 ;  General  Clarke's,  in  1782,  against  the  Wabash  in 
1786  ;  Gen.  Logan's,  against  the  Shawanees,  in  1786 ;  Gen. 

Wilkinson's,  in ;  Colonel  Harmer's,  in  1790 ;  and  Gen. 

St.  Clair's,  in  1791  ;  which,  in  all,  are  twenty-two  campaigns, 
besides  smaller  expeditions ;  such  as  the  French  Creek  expe- 
dition, Colonel  Edwards's,  Loughrie's,  &c.     All  these  were 
exclusive  of  the  number  of  men  that  were  internally  employed 
as  scouting  parties,  and  in  erecting  forts,  guarding  stations,  &cJ»' 
When  we  take  the  foregoing  occurrences  into  consideration,  ^  J:: 
may  we  not  reasonably  conclude,  that  they  are  the  best  disci-  ":'   " 
plined  troops  in  the  known  world  ?     Is  it  not  the  best  discipline 
that  has  the  greatest  tendency  to  annoy  the  enemy  and  save 
their  own  men  ?     I  apprehend  that  the  Indian  discipline  is  sm 
well  calculated  to  answer  the  purpose  in  the  woods  of  America, 
as  the  British  discipline  in  Flanders  ;  and  British  discipline  in 
the  woods  is  the  way  to  have  men  slaughtered,  with  scarcely 
any  chance  of  defending  themselves. 

Let  us  take  a  view  of  the  benefits  we  have  received  by  what 
little  we  have  learned  of  their  art  of  war,  which  cost  us  dear, 
and  the  loss  we  have  sustained  for  want  of  it,  and  then  see  if 
it  will  not  be  well  worth  our  while  to  retain  what  we  have,  and 
also  to  endeavor  to  improve  in  this  necessary  branch  of  busi- 
ness. Though  we  have  made  considerable  proficiency  in  this 
line,  and  in  some  respects  outdo  them,  viz.  as  marksmen,  and 
in  cutting  our  rifles,  and  keeping  them  in  good  okler;  yet  I 


4. 


I 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


ttpprehend  we  are  far  behind  in  their  manoeuvrefl,  or  in  being 
able  to  surprise,  or  prevent  a  surprise.  May  we  not  conclude, 
that  the  progress  we  had  made  in  their  art  of  war  contributed 
considerably  towards  our  success,  in  various  respects,  when 
contending  with  Great  Britain  for  liberty  ?  Had  the  British 
king  attempted  to  enslave  us  before  Braddock's  war,  in  all  pro- 
bability he  might  readily  have  done  it,  because,  except  the  New 
Englanders,  who  had  formerly  been  engaged  in  war  with  the 
Indians,  we  were  unacquainted  with  any  kind  of  war.  But 
after  fighting  such  a  subtle  and  barbarous  enemy  as  the  In- 
dians, we  were  not  terrified  at  the  approach  of  British  red-coats. 
Was  not  Burgoyne's  defeat  accomplished,  in  some  measure,  by 
the  Indian  mode  of  fighting  ?  And  did  not  General  Morgan's 
riflemen,  and  many  others,  fight  with  greater  success  in  con- 
sequence of  what  they  had  learned  of  tnoir  art  of  war  ?  Ken- 
tucky would  not  have  been  settled  at  the  time  it  was,  had  the 
Virginians  been  altogether  ignorant  of  this  method  of  war. 

In  Braddock's  war  the  frontiers  were  laid  waste  for  above 
three  hundred  miles  long,  and  generally  about  thirty  broad, 
excepting  some  that  were  living  in  forts,  and  many  hundreds, 
or  perhaps  thousands,  killed  or  made  captives,  and  horses,  and 
all  kinds  of  property  carried  off.  But,  in  the  next  Indian  war, 
'^  though  we  had  the  same  Indians  to  cope  with,  the  frontiers 
■*  almost  all  stood  their  ground,  because  they  were  by  this  time, 
in  some  measure,  acquainted  with  their  manoeuvres ;  and  the 
want  of  this  in  the  first  war  was  the  cause  of  the  loss  of  many 
hundreds  of  our  citizens,  and  much  treasure. 

Though  large  volumes  have  been  written  on  morality,  yet  it 
*niay  be  all  summed  up  in  saying,  do  as  you  would  wish  to  be 
'  done  by.     So  the  Indians  sum  up  the  art  of  war  in  the  follow- 
ing manner. 

The  business  of  the  private  warriors  is  to  be  under  command, 
or  punctually  to  obey  orders ;  to  learn  to  march  abreast  in 
scattered  order,  so  as  to  be  in  readiness  to  surround  the  enemy, 
or  to  prevent  being  surrounded ;  to  be  good  marksmen,  and 
active  in  the  use  of  arms ;  to  practise  running ;  to  learn  to 
endure  hunger  or  hardships  with  patience  and  fortitude  ;  to  tell 
the  truth  at  all  times  to  their  officers,  but  more  especially  when 
sent  out  to  spy  the  enemy. 

Concerning  Officers. — They  say  that  it  would  be  absurd  to 
appoint  a  man  an  officer  whose  skill  and  courage  had  never 
been  tried  ;  that  all  officers  should  be  advanced  only  according 
to  merit ;  that  no  one  man  should  have  the  absolute  command 
of  an  army ;  that  a  council  of  officers  are  to  determine  when 
and  how  an  attack  is  to  be  made ;  that  it  is  the  business  of  the 
officers  to  lay  plans  to  take  every  advantage  of  the  enemy;  to 

\- 


INDIAN  CUSTOMS. 


863 


being 

elude, 

ibuted 

when 

3ritish 

U  pro- 

e  New 

ith  the 

.     But 

the  In- 

1 -coats. 

mre,  by 

organ's 

in  con- 

!  Ken- 
had  the 

war. 

»r  above 

y  broad, 

undreds, 

rses,  and 

iian  war, 

frontiers 

his  time, 
and  the 
of  many 

ty,  yet  it 
ish  to  be 
ie  follow- 

^mmand, 
oreast  in 
enemy, 
len,  and 
learn  to 
to  tell 
|iliy  when 

absurd  to 
[ad  never 
Recording 
Command 
line  when 
3SS  of  the 
[lemy;  to 


ambush  and  surprise  them,  and  to  prevent  being  a;Abu8hed  and 
surprised  themselves.     It  is  the  duty  of  officers  to  prepare  and  * 
deliver  speeches  to  the  men,  in  order  to  animate  and  encourage 
them  ;  and  on  the  march,  to  prevent  the  men,  at  any  time,  from 
getting  into  a  huddle,  because  if  the  enemy  should  surround 
them  in  this  position  they  would  be  exposed  to  the  enemy'a 
fire.     It  is  likewise  their  business  at  all  times  to  endeavor  to 
annoy  their  enemy,  and  save  their  own  men,  and  thereforo 
ought  never  to  bring  on  an  attack  without  considerable  advan- 
tage, or  without  what  appeared  to  them  the  sure  prospect  of 
victory,  and  that  with  the  loss  of  few  men  ;  and  if  at  any  time 
they  should  be  mistaken  in  this,  and  are  like  to  lose  many  men 
by  gaining  the  victory,  it  is  their  duty  to  retreat,  and  wait  for 
a  better  opportunity  of  defeating  their  enemy,  without  the  dan- 
ger of  losing  so  many  men.     Their  conduct  proves  that  they 
act  upon  these  principles ;  therefore  it  is  that,  from  Braddock'f 
war  to  the  present  time,  they  have  seldom  ever  made  an  un- 
successful attack.     The  battle  at  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Ken- 
hawa  is  the  greatest  instance  of  this ;  and  even  then,  though 
the  Indians  killed  about  three  for  one  they  lost,  yet  they  re- 
treated.    The  loss  of  the  Virginians  in  this  action  was  seventy 
killed,  and  the  same  number  wounded.      The  Indians  lost 
twenty  killed  on  the  field,  and  eight  who  died  afterwards  of 
their  wounds.     This  was  the  greatest  loss  of  men  that  I  ever 
knew  the  Indians  to  sustain  m  any  one  battle.     They  will 
commonly  retreat  if  their  men  are  tailing  fast ;  they  will  not 
stand  cutting  like  the  Highlanders  or  other  British  troops ;  but 
this  proceeds  from  a  compliance  with  their  rules  of  war  rather 
than  cowardice.     If  they  are  surrounded  they  will  fight  while  * 
there  is  a  man  of  them  alive,  rather  than  surrender.     When 
Colonel  John  Armstrong  surrounded  the  Cattanyan  town,  on 
the  Alleghany  river.  Captain  Jacobs,  a  Delaware  chief,  with 
some  warriors,  took  possession  of  a  house,  defended  themselves 
for  some  time,  and  Killed  a  number  of  our  men.     As  Jacobs 
could  speak  English,  our  people  called  on  him  to  surrender. 
He  said  that  he  and  his  men  were  warriors,  and  they  would 
all  fight  while  life  remained.     He  was  again  told  that  they 
should  be  well  used  if  they  would  only  surrender ;  and  if  not, 
the  house  should  be  burned  down  over  their  heads.     Jacobs 
replied,  he  could  eat  fire  ;  and  when  the  house  was  in  a  flame, 
he,  and  they  that  were  with  him,  came  out  in  a  fighting  posi- 
tion, and  were  all  killed.     As  they  are  a  sharp,  active  kind  of 
people,  and  war  is  their  principal  study,  in  this  they  have 
arrived  at  considerable  perfection.     We  may  learn  of  the  In- 
dians what  is  useful  and  laudable,  and  at  the  same  time  lay 
aside  their  barbarous  proceedings.    It  is  much  to  be  lamented, 


> 


)! 


'?(?!■ 


■**^- 


.a--;  .&:...:..*     :ji-  ': 


284 


COLONEL  SMITH'S  ADVENTURES. 


J*. 


«- 


Is 


that  some  of  our  frontier  riflemen  are  too  prone  to  imitate  them 
in  their  inhumanity.  During  the  British  war,  a  considerable 
number  of  men  from  below  fort  Pitt  crossed  the  Ohio,  and 
marched  into  a  town  of  friendly  Indians,  chiefly  Delawares, 
who  professed  the  Moravian  religion.  As  the  Indians  appre- 
hended no  danger,  they  neither  lifted  arms  nor  fled.  After 
these  riflemen  were  some  time  in  the  town,  and  the  Indians 
altogether  in  their  power,  in  cool  blood  they  massacred  the 
whole  town,  without  distinction  of  age  or  sex.  This  was  an 
act  of  barbarity  beyond  any  thing  I  ever  knew  to  be  committed 
by  the  savages  themselves. 

Why  have  we  not  made  greater  proficiency  in  the  Indian  art 
of  war  ?  Is  it  because  we  are  too  proud  to  imitate  them,  even 
though  it  should  be  a  means  of  preserving  the  lives  of  many 
of  our  citizens  ?  No  !  We  are  not  above  borrowing  language 
from  them,  such  as  homony,  pone,  tomahawk,  &;c.,  which  is  of 
little  or  no  use  to  us.  I  apprehend,  that  the  reasons  why  we 
have  not  improved  more  in  this  respect  are  as  follow :  no 
important  acquisition  is  to  be  obtained  but  by  attention  and 
diligence ;  and  as  it  is  easier  to  learn  to  move  and  act  in  con- 
cert in  close  order  in  the  open  plain,  than  to  act  in  concert  in 
scattered  order  in  the  woods,  so  it  is  easier  to  learn  our  disci- 
pline than  the  Indian  manoeuvres.  They  train  up  their  boys 
m  the  art  of  war  from  the  time  they  are  twelve  or  fourteen 

{rears  of  age ;  whereas,  the  principal  chance  our  people  had  of 
earning  was  by  observing  their  manoeuvres  when  in  action 
against  us.  I  have  been  long  astonished  that  no  one  has  writ- 
ten upon  thi?  important  subject,  as  their  art  of  war  would  not 
only  be  of  use  to  us  in  case  of  another  rupture  with  them ;  but 
were  only  part  of  our  men  taught  this  art,  accompanied  with 
our  continental  discipline,  I  think  no  European  power,  after 
trial,  would  venture  to  show  its  head  in  the  American  woods. 

If  what  I  have  written  should  meet  the  approbation  of  my 
countrymen,  perhaps  I  may  publish  more  upon  this  subject  in 
a  future  edition. 


■m 


.:v:¥^^i-' 


■*;' 


is'' 


.:.<'  ■ 


*^- 


•,.#.'.'«!v 


in-:  W»' 

'f:  mut 


4^  >■    ';*.^'5 


L 


OF  TH] 
WON 
EAST 
INDI^ 

request 
datory 
Philade 
site  th€ 

PREF^ 

the  ensu 

been  so 

acter,  th<i 

known ; 

itants  of 

captivity ; 

tribute  to 

any  reque 

seeing  the 

where  he 

acquaintai 

integrity,  i 

oe  depenc 

J[f 'ght,  an 

•ine  desigi 


265 


A  FAITHFUL  NARRATIVE 


OP  THE  MANY  DANGERS  AND  SUFFERINGS,  AS  WELL  AS 
WONDERFUL  AND  SURPRISING  DELIV  ERANCES,  OP  ROBERT 
EASTBURN,  DURING  HIS  LATE  CA-»T1VITY  AMONG  THE 
INDIANS.  WRITTEN  B^  HIMSELF.  Published  at  the  earnest 
request  of  many  persons,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Public.  With  a  reconunen- 
datory  Preface  by  the  Rev.  Gilbert  Tennent.  —Psalms  24,  6,  7,  and  193,  2,  4. 
Philadelphia :  Printed.  Boston :  Reprinted  and  sold  by  Green  &  Russell,  oppo- 
site the  Probate  Office  in<iueen  street,  1758. 


. 


Preface. — Candid  Reader :  The  author  (and  subject)  of 
the  ensuing  narrative  (who  is  a  deacon  of  our  church,  and  has 
been  so  for  many  years)  is  of  such  an  established  good  chat' 
acter,  that  he  needs  no  recommendation  of  others  where  he  is 
known  ;  a  proof  of  which  was  the  general  joy  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  this  city,  occasioned  by  his  return  from  a  miserable 
captivity ;  together  with  the  readiness  of  divers  persons  to  con- 
tribute to  the  re'ief  of  himself  and  necessitous  family,  without 
any  request  of  his,  or  the  least  motion  of  that  tendency.  But 
seeing  the  following  sheets  are  like  to  spread  into  many  places 
where  he  is  not  known,  permit  me  to  say  that,  upon  long 
acquaintance,  I  have  found  him  to  be  a  pertfipn  of  candor^, 
integrity,  and  sincere  piety,  whose  testimony«'may  with  safely 
be  depended  upon;  which  give  his  narrative  the  greater 
weight,  and  may  induce  to  read  it  with  the  greater  pleasure. 
The  design  of  it  is  evidently  pious ;  the  matters  contained  m 
23 


a»> 


M 


* 


266 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S   CAPTIVITY. 


it,  and  manner  of  handling  them,  will,  I  hope,  be  esteemed 
by  the  impartial  to  be  entertaining  and  improving.  I  wish  it 
may,  by  the  divine  benediction,  be  of  great  and  durable  ser- 
vice.    I  am  thy  sincere  servant  in  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Gilbert  Tennent. 
Philadelphia,  January  19th,  1758. 

Kind  Readers  :  On  my  return  from  my  captfvity  I  had  no 
thoughts  of  publishing  any  observations  of  mine  to  the  world 
in  this  manner.  As  I  had  no  opportunity  to  keep  a  journal, 
and  my  memory  being  broken  and  capacity  small,.  I  was 
disinclined  to  undertake  it.  But  a  number  of  friends  were 
pressing  in  their  persuasions  that  I  should  do  it ;  with  whose 
motions  I  complied,  from  a  sincere  regard  to  God,  my  king  and 
country,  so  far  as  I  know  my  own  heart.  The  following 
pages  contain,  as  far  as  I  can  remember,  the  most  material 
passages  that  happened  within  the  compass  of  my  observation 
while  a  prisoner  in  Canada.  The  facts  therein  related  are 
certainly  true,  but  the  way  of  representing  some  things  espe- 
cially, is  not  so  regular,  clear  and  strong  as  I  could  wish  ;  but 
I  trust  it  will  be  some  apology,  that  I  am  not  t  ^  much  acquaint- 
ed with  performances  of  this  kind  as  many  others,  who  may 
be  hereby  excited  to  give  better  representations  of  things,  far 
beyond  my  knowledge.  I  remain  your  unfeigned  well-wisher 
and  humble  servant, 

Robert  Eastburn. 

Philadelphia,  January  19,  1758. 


A  Faithful  Narrative,  &c. — About  thirty  tradesmen  and 
my£elf  arrived  at  Captain  Williams'  fort,  at  the  carrying 
place,  in  our  way  to  Oswego,  the  26th  of  March,  1756. 
Captain  Williams  informed  me  that  he  was  like  to  be  cum- 
bered in  the  fort,  and  therefore  advised  us  to  take  the  Indian 
house  for  our  lodging.  About  ten  o'clock  next  day,  a  negro  man 
came  running  down  the  road  and  reported  that  our  slaymen 
were  all  taken  by  the  enemy.  Captain  Williams,  on  hearing 
this,  sent  a  sergeant  and  about  twelve  men  to  see  if  it  were  true. 
I  being  at  the  Indian  house,  and  not  thinking  myself  safe  there, 
in  case  of  an  attack,  and  heinp  also  sincerely  willing  to  serve 
ij^y  king  and  country,  in  the  best  manner  I  could  in  my  pres- 
ent circumstances,  asked  him  if  he  would  take  company.  He 
replied,  with  all  his  heart !  hereupon  I  fell  into  the  rear  with 
my  arms,  and  marched  after  them.  When  we  had  advanced 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  we  heard  a  shot,  followed  with  dole- 


*  It  is  a 
i'ldulged 
captii'e  wa 
acquaintar 
«e,"  thoug 


flf 


V1^ 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


267 


irrying 
^  1756. 

le  cum- 
Indian 
roman 
laymen 
fiearing 
re  mie. 
fe  there, 
,0  serve 
,y  pres- 
He 

ar  with 

vanced 

kh  dole- 


ful cries  of  a  dying  man,  which  excited  me  to  advance,  in 
order  to  discover  the  enemy,  who  I  soon  perceived  were  pre- 
pared to  receive  us.  In  this  difficult  situation,  seeing  a  large 
pine  tree  near,  I  repaired  to  it  for  shelter  ;  and  while  the  enemy 
were  viewing  our  party,  I,  having  a  good  chance  of  killing 
tWQ  at  a  shot,  quickly  discharged  at  them,  but  could  not  cer- 
tainly know  what  execution  was  done  till  some  time  after. 
Our  company  likewise  discharged  and  retreated.  Seeing 
myself  in  danger  of  being  surrounded,  I  was  obliged  to  retreat 
a  different  course,  and  to  my  great  surprise  fell  into  a  deep 
mire,  which  the  enemy  by  following  my  track  in  a  light  snow 
soon  discovered,  and  obliged  me  to  surrender,  to  prevent  a  cruel 
death ;  they  standing  ready  to  drive  their  darts  into  my  body, 
in  case  I  refused  to  deliver  up  my  arms.  Presently  after  I  was 
taken,  I  was  surrounded  by  a  great  number,  who  stripped  me 
of  my  clothing,  hat  and  neckcloth,  so  that  I  had  nothing  left 
but  a  flannel  vest  without  sleeves,  put  a  rope  on  my  neck, 
bound  my  arms  fast  behind  me,  put  a  long  band*  round  my 
body,  and  a  large  pack  on  my  back,  struck  me  a  severe  blow 
on  the  head,  and  drove  me  through  the  woods  before  them.  It 
is  not  easy  to  conceive  how  distressing  such  a  condition  is. 
In  the  mean  time  I  endeavored  with  all  my  little  remaining 
strength  to  lift  up  my  eyes  to  God,  from  whom  alone  I  could 
with  reason  expect  relief. 

Seventeen  or  eighteen  prisoners  were  soon  added  to  our 
number,  one  of  whom  informed  me  that  the  Indians  were 
angry  with  me,  reported  to  some  of  their  chiefs  that  I  htui  I'red 
on  tnem,  wounded  one  and  killed  another ;  for  whicli  he 
doubted  not  they  would  kill  me. 

I  had  not  as  yet  learned  what  number  the  enemy's  parties 
consisted  of;  there  being  only  about  one  hundred  Indians  who 
had  lain  in  ambush  on  the  road  to  kill  or  take  irj.o  captivity 
all  that  passed  between  the  two  forts.  Here  an  interpreter 
came  to  me  to  inquire  what  strength  Captain  Williams  had  to 
defend  his, fort.  After  a  short  pause  1  gave  such  a  discour- 
aging answer,  (yet  consistent  with  truth,)*"  as  prevented  their 
attacking  it,  and  of  consequence  the  effusion  of  much  blood. 
Hereby  it  evidently  appeared  that  I  was  suffered  to  fall  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy  to  promote  the  good  of  my  country- 
men, to  better  purpose  than  I  could  by  continuing  with  them. 
.  In  the  mean  time  the  enemy  determined  to  destroy  BullNs 

"■  It  is  a  great  pity  that  our  modern  managers  of  Ihdian  affairs  had  not 
iiidulged  in  such  scrupulous  veracity.  They  would  probably  say  our 
captive  was  "  more  nice  than  wise."  But  perhaps  he  was  like  an  old 
acquaintance  of  mine,  who  used  to  say  sometimes  that  "  he  al-most  told  a 
UCi"  though  Twt  quite. — Ed  ...  .^. ,  , 


j*"^ 


m-'"'^ 


I 


:^. 


?'  I 


m 


\ 


^t    *.\ 


I 


! 
I'  '^ 


V 


1;. 


268 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


fort,  (at  the  head  of  Wood  Creek,)  which  they  soon  effected  ; 
all  heing  put  to  the  sword,  except  five  persons,  tjie  fort  burnt, 
the  provisions  and  powder  destroyed,  (saving  only  a  little  for 
their  own  use.)  Then  they  retired  to  the  woods  and  joined  their 
main  body,  including  which,  consisted  of  four  hundred  French 
and  three  hundred  Indians,  commanded  by  one  of  the  principal 
gentlemen  of  Quebec.  As  soon  as  they  got  together,  (having  a 
priest  with  them,)  they  fell  on  their  knees  and  returned  thanks 
for  their  victory.  An  example  this,  worthy  of  imitation  !  an 
example  which  may  make  profane,  pretended  Protestants 
blush,  if  they  are  not  lost  to  all  sense  of  shame,*  who,  instead 
of  acknowledging  a  God,  or  providence,  in  their  military 
undertakings,  are  continually  reproachinf  him  with  oaths  and 
curses.  Is  it  any  wonder  the  attempts  of  such  are  blasted 
with  disappointment  and  disgrace  ? 

The  enemy  had  several  wounded  men,  both  French  and 
Indians,  among  them,  whom  they  carried  on  their  backs ; 
besides  these,  about  fifteen  of  their  number  were  killed,  and 
of  us  about  forty.  It  being  Ly  this  time  near  dark,  and  some 
Indians  drunk,  they  only  marched  about  four  miles  and 
encamped.  The  Indians  untied  my  arms,  cut  hemlock  boughs 
and  strewed  round  the  fire,  tied  my  band  to  two  trees,  v  uh  my 
back  on  the  green  boughs,  (by  the  fire,)  covered  me  with  an 
old  blanket,  and  lay  down  a''ross  my  band,  on  each  side,  to 
prevent  my  escape  while  they  slept. 

Sunday  the  28th,  we  rose  early ;  the  commander  ordered  a 
hasty  retreat  towards  Canada,  for  fear  of  General  Johnson. 
In  the  mean  time,  one  of  our  men  said  he  understood  the 
French  and  Indians  designed  to  join  a  strong  party,  and  fall 
on  Oswego,  before  our  forces  at  that  place  could  get  any  pro- 
vision or  succor ;  having,  as  they  thought,  put  a  stop  to  our 
relieving  them  for  a  time.  When  encamped  in  the  evening, 
the  commanding  officer  ordered  the  Indians  to  bring  me  to  his 
tent,  and  asked  me  by  an  interpreter  if  I  thought  General 
Johnson  would  follow  tnem.  I  told  him  I  judged  not,  but  rather 
thought  he  would  proceed  to  Oswego,  (which  was  indeed  my 
sentiment,  grounded  upon  prior  information,  and  then  expressed 
to  prevent  the  execution  of  their  design.)  He  further  inquired 
what  my  trade  was.  I  told  him,  that  of  a  smith.  He  then 
persuaded  me,  when  I  got  to  Canada,  to  send  for  my  wife, 
"  for,"  said  he,  *'  you  can  get  a  rich  living  there."  But  when 
he  saw  that  he  could  not  prevail,  he  asked  me  no  more  ques- 

*  What  would  Captain  Gyles  have  said  to  such  praise  of  Catholics  and 
their  religion  ?  and  by  a  Protestant  too.  He  would  no  doubt  have  said 
that  the  devil  had  helped  them,  inasmuch  as  no  good  spirit  would  have 
heard  the  prayers  of  "  wicked  papists." — Ed, 


P* 


ted ; 

iirnt, 

B  for 

their 

rench 

icipal 

ring  a 

tianks 

n!  ail 

stants 

nstead 

ilitary 

lis  and 

alasted 

ih  and 
backs ; 
ed,  and 
i  some 
es   and 
houghs 
m  Ah  my 
with  an 
side,  to 

dered  a 
lohnson. 
Lood  the 
[and  fall 
my  pro- 
to  our 
Bvening, 
\e  to  his 
I  General 
It  rather 
deed  my 
Ixpressed 
linquired 
iHe  then 
ly  wife, 
Rut  when 
\xe  ques- 

lolics  and 
Ihave  said 
lould  have 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


269 


tions,  but  commanded  me  to  my  Indian  master.  Having  this 
opportunity  of  conversation,  I  informed  the  general  that  his 
Indian  warriors  had  stripped  me  of  my  clothing,  and  would  be 
glad  if  he  would  be  good  enough  to  order  me  some  relief;  to 
which  he  replied,  "  I  should  get  clothes  when  I  came  to  Can- 
ada," which  was  cold  comfort  to  one  almost  frozen.  On  my 
return,  the  Indians,  perceiving  I  was  unwell  and  could  not  eat 
their  coarse  food,  ordered  some  chocolate,  which  they  had 
brought  from  the  carrying  place,  to  be  boiled  for  me,  and  see- 
ing me  eat  that  appeared  pleased.  A  strong  guard  was 
kept  every  night.  One  of  our  men  being  weakened  by  his 
wounds,  and  rendered  unable  to  keep  pace  with  them,  was 
killed  and  scalped  on  the  road  !  I  was  all  this  time  almost 
naked,  travelling  through  deep  snow,  and  wading  through  riv- 
ers, cold  as  ice ! 

After  seven  days'  march,  we  arrived  at  lake  Ontario,  where 
I  eat  some  horse  flesh,  which  tasted  very  agreeably,  for  to  a 
hungry  man,  as  Solomon  observes,  every  bitter  thing  is  sweet. 
On  the  Friday  before  we  arrived  at  the  lake,  the  Indians  killed 
a  porcupine.  The  Indians  threw  it  on  a  large  fire,  burnt  off 
the  hair  and  quills,  roasted  and  eat  of  it,  with  whom  I  had  a 
part. 

The  French  carried  several  of  their  wounded  men  all  the 
way  upon  their  backs ;  many  of  whom  wore  no  breeches  in 
their  travels  in  this  cold  season,  being  strong  hardy  men. 
The  Indians  had  three  of  their  party  wounded,  which  they 
likewise  carried  on  their  backs.  I  wish  there  was  more  of 
this  hardiness,  so  necessary  for  war,  in  our  nation,  which  would 
open  a  more  encouraging  scene  than  appears  at  present.  The 
prisoners  were  so  divided,  that  but  few  could  converse  together 
on  the  march,  and  what  was  still  more  disagreeable  and  dis- 
tressing, an  Indian  who  had  a  large  bunch  of  green  scalps, 
taken  off  our  men's  heads,  marched  before  me,  and  another  with 
a  sharp  spear  behind,  to  drive  me  after  him, by  which  means  the 
scalps  were  often  close  to  my  face.  And  as  we  marched,  they 
frequently  every  day  gave  the  dead  shout,  which  was  repeated 
as  many  times  as  there  were  captives  and  scalps  taken. 

I  may  with  justice  and  truth  observe,  that  our  enemies  leave 
no  stone  unturned  to  compass  our  ruin.  They  pray,  work, 
and  travel  to  bring  it  about,  and  are  unwearied  in  the  pursuit, 
while  many  among  us  sleep  in  a  storm  which  has  laid  a  good 
part  of  our  country  desolate,  and  threatens  the  whole  with 
destruction. 

April  4th,  several  French  batteaux  met  us,  and  brought  a 
large  supply  of  provision,  the  sight  of  which  caused  great  joy, 
for  we  were  in  great  want.  Then  a  place  was  soon  erected  to 
23* 


# 


'^•*'*^ 


.:..!*, 


I  f 

i 


ii 


P' 


■»  ■ 


'^ 


>m 


ill 


,l! 


.[■.m 


a  *'s 


M 


}S 


h  ^ 


^:- 


270 


ii 


•^     • 


y-. 


ROBERT  EASTBURNS  CAPTIVITY. 


celebrate  mass  in,  which  being  ended,  we  all  went  over  the 
mouth  of  a  river,  where  it  empties  itself  into  the  east  end  of 
lake  Ontario.  A  great  part  of  our  company  set  off  on  foot 
towards  Oswegatchy,  while  the  rest  were  ordered  into  batteaux 
and  carried  towards  the  extreme  of  St.  Lawrence,  (where  that 
river  takes  its  beginning,)  but  by  reason  of  bad  weather,  wind, 
rain,  and  snow,  whereby  the  waters  of  the  lake  were  troubled, 
we  were  obliged  to  lie  by,  and  haul  our  batteaux  on  shore. 
Here  I  lay  on  the  cold  shore  two  days.  Tuesday  set  off,  and 
entered  the  head  of  St.  Lawrence  in  the  afternoon ;  came  too 
late  at  night,  made  fires,  but  did  not  lie  down  to  sleep.  Em- 
barking long  before  day,  and  after  some  miles'  progress  down 
the  river,  saw  many  fires  on  our  right  hand,  which  were  made 
ly  the  men  who  left  us  and  went  by  land.  With  them  we  staid 
tn  day,  then  again  embarked  in  our  batteaux.  The  weather 
was  very  oad,  (it  snowed  fast  all  day ;)  near  night  we  arrived 
ui  Oswegatchy.  I  was  almost  starved  to  death,  but  hoped  to 
3tav  in  this  Indian  town  till  warm  weather  ;  slept  in  an  Indian 
wii. 'vam,  rose  early  in  the  morning,  (being  Thurf^day,)  and 
soon  to  m^,'  grief  discovered  my  disappointment.  Several  of 
the  prisoners  had  leave  to  tarry  here,  but  I  must  go  two  hun- 
dred miles  further  down  stream,  to  another  Indian  town.  The 
moving  being  extremely  cold,  I  applied  to  a  French  merchant 
or  trader  for  some  old  rags  of  clothing,  for  I  was  almost  naked, 
but  to  no  purpose. 

About  ten  o'clock,  I  was  ordered  into  a  boat,  to  go  down  the 
river,  with  eight  or  ninp  Indians,  one  of  whom  was  the  man 
wounded  in  the  skirmish  befc  e  mentioned.*  At  night  we 
went  on  shore ;  the  snov;  being  much  deeper  than  before,  we 
cleared  it  away  and  made  a  large  fire.  Here,  when  the  wound- 
ed Indian  cast  his  eyes  upon  me,  his  old  grudge  revived  ;  he 
took  my  blanket  from  me  and  commanded  me  to  dance  round 
the  fire  barefoot,  and  sing  the  prisoner  s  song,  which  I  utterly 
refused.  This  surprised  one  of  my  fellow-prisoners,  who  told 
me  they  would  put  me  ^  <  dea-l  ,  for  he  understood  what  they 
said.  He  therefore  tried  to  persuade  me  to  comply,  but  I  de- 
sired him  to  let  me  alone,  and  was  through  great  mercy  enabled 
to  reject  his  importunity  with  abhorrence.  This  Indian  also 
continued  urging,  saying,  you  shall  dance  and  sing ;  but  ap- 
prehending my  compliance  sinful,  I  determined  to  persist  in 
declining  it  at  all  adventures,  and  leave  the  issue  to  the  divine 
disposal.  The  Ipdian,  perceiving  his  orders  disobeyed,  was 
fired  with  indignation,  and  endeavored  to  push  me  into  thelRre, 
which  I  leaped  over,  and  he,  being  weak  with  his  woutids,  and 

*  The  author  probably  refers  to  the  time  he  was  taken. — Ed 


ROBERT   EASTBURN'S    CAPTIVITY. 


271 


'  '-'i 


the 


we 
ound- 
he 
round 
tterly 
I  told 
they 
Ide- 
abled 
abo 
ut  ap- 
;ist  in 
divine 
,  was 
e^re, 
s,  and 


not  being  assisted  by  any  of  his  brethren,  was  obliged  to  desist. 
For  this  gracious  interposure  of  Providence,  in  preserving  me 
both  from  sin  and  danger,  I  desire  to  bless  God  while  I  live. 

Friday  morning  I  was  almost  perished  with  cold.  Saturday 
we  proceeded  on  our  way,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  upper 
part  of  the  inhabitants  of  Canada^  Here  I  was  in  great  hopes 
of  some  relief,  not  knowing  the  manner  of  the  Indians,  who 
do  not  make  many  stops  among  the  French  in  their  return 
from  war  till  they  get  home.  However,  when  they  came  neai 
some  rapid  falls  of  water,  one  of  my  fellow-prisoners  and  several 
Indians,  together  with  myself,  were  put  on  shore  to  travel  by 
land,  which  pleased  me  well ;  it  being  much  warmer  running 
on  the  snow  than  to  lie  still  in  the  batteau.  We  passed  by 
several  French  houses,  but  stopped  at  none  ;  the  vessel  going 
down  a  rapid  stream,  it  required  haste  to  keep  pace  with  her, 
and  we  crossed  over  a  point  of  land  and  found  the  batteau 
waiting  for  us,  as  near  the  shore  as  the  ice  would  permit. 
Here  we  left  the  St.  Lawrence  and  turned  up  Conasadauga 
river,  but  it  being  frozen  up,  we  hauled  our  batteau  on  shore, 
and  each  of  us  took  our  share  of  her  loading  on  our  backs,  and 
marched  towards  Conasadauga,  an  Indian  town,  which  was 
our  designed  port,  but  could  not  reach  it  that  night.  We  came 
to  a  French  house,  cold,  weary,  and  hungry.  Here  my  old 
friend,  the  wounded  Indian,  again  appeared,  and  related  to  the 
Frenchman  the  affair  of  my  refusing  to  dance,  who  immedi- 
ately assisted  him  to  strip  me  of  my  flannel  vest,  which  was 
my  all.  Now  they  were  resolved  to  compel  me  to  dance  and 
sing.  The  Frenchman  was  as  violent  as  the  Indian  in  pro- 
moting this  imposition  ;  but  the  woman  belonging  to  the  house 
seeing  the  rough  usage  I  had,  took  pity  on  me  and  rescued  me 
out  of  their  hands,  till  their  heat  was  over,  and  prevailed  with 
the  Indian  to  excuse  me  from  dancing,  but  he  insisted  that  I 
must  be  shaved,  and  then  he  would  let  me  alone.  (I  had  at 
that  time  a  long  beard,  which  the  Indians  hate.)  With  this 
motion  I  readily  complied,  and  then  they  seemed  contented. 

Sunday,  April  11th,  we  set  off  towards  Conasadauga,  and 
travelled  about  two  hours,  when  we  saw  the  town  over  a  great 
river,  which  was  still  frozen.  The  Indians  stopped,  and  we 
were  soon  joined  with  a  number  of  our  own  company,  which 
we  had  not  seen  for  several  days.  The  prisoners,  in  number 
eight,  were  ordered  to  lay  down  their  packs,  and  be  painted. 
The  wounded  Indian  painted  me,  and  put  a  belt  of  wampum 
rotfnd  my  neck,  instead  of  the  rope  I  had  worn  four  hundred 
miles.  Then  we  set  off  for  the  town  on  the  ice,  which  was 
four  miles  over.  Our  heads  were  not  allowed  to  be  covered, 
lest  our  fine  paint  should  be  hid,  the  weather  in  the,  iQf {^  tinifi 


f 


^i 


1»;^ 


I    .'k 


,f!4l 


,*•    • 


i:fs% 


272 


ROBERT   EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


very  cold,  like  to  freeze  our  ears.  After  we  had  advanced 
nearer  to  the  town,  the  Indian  women  came  out  to  meet  us,  and 
relieved  their  husbands  of  their  packs. 

As  soon  as  we  landed  at  Conasadauga  a  large  body  of  In- 
dians came  and  encompassed  us  round,  and  ordered  the  prison- 
ers to  dance  and  sing  the  prisoner's  song,  (which  I  was  still 
enabled  to  decline.)  At  the  conclusion  they  gave  a  shout,  and: 
opened  the  ring  to  let  us  run,  and  then  fell  on  us  with  their 
fists,  and  knocked  several  down.  In  the  mean  time,  one  ran 
before  to  direct  us  to  an  Indian  house  which  was  open,  and  as 
soon  as  we  got  in  we  were  safe  from  beating.  My  head  was 
sore  with  bruises,  and  pained  me  several  days.  The  squaws 
were  kind  to  us,  gave  us  boiled  corn  and  beans  to  eat,  and  fire 
to  warm  us,  which  was  a  great  mercy,  for  I  was  both  cold  and 
hungry.  This  town  lies  about  thirty  miles  north-west  of  Mont- 
real. I  staid  here  till  the  ice  was  gone,  which  was  abou^  ten 
days,  and  then  was  sent  to  Cohnewago,  in  company  with  some 
Indians,  who,  when  «hey  came  within  hearing,  gave  notice  by 
their  way  of  shouting  that  they  had  a  prisoner,  on  which  the 
whole  town  rose  to  welcome  me,  which  was  the  more  distress- 
ing as  there  was  no  other  prisoner  in  their  hands.  When  we 
came  near  shore,  a  stout  Indian  took  hold  of  me,  and  hauled 
me  into  the  water,  which  was  knee  deep,  and  very  cold.  As 
soon  as  I  got  ashore  the  Indians  gathered  round  me,  ordered 
me  to  dance  and  sing,  although  I  was  stiff  with  cold  and  wet, 
and  lying  long  in  the  cai  oe.  I  only  stamped  to  prepare  for 
my  race,  pnd  Avas  encompassed  with  about  five  hundred  Indians, 
who  danced  and  sung,  and  at  last  gave  a  shout  and  opened  the 
circle.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  Indian  lads  made  ready 
to  pelt  me  with  dirt  and  gravel-stones,  and  on  my  starting  off 
gave  me  a  smart  volley,  but  from  which  I  did  not  suffer  much 
hurt  An  Indian  seeing  me  running,  met  me,  seized  and  held 
me  fast,  till  the  boys  had  stored  themselves  again  with  small 
stones,  and  then  let  me  go.  Now  I  fared  much  worse  than 
before,  for  a  small  stone  among  the  mud  hit  my  right  eye,  and 
my  head  and  face  were  so  covered  with  the  dirt  that  I  could 
scarce  see  my  way  ;  but  discovering  the  door  of  an  Indian 
house  standing  open,  I  ran  in.  From  this  retreat  I  was  soon 
dragged  to  be  pelted  more,  but  the  Indiart  women,  being  more 
merciful,  interposed,  took  me  into  a  house,  brought  ,me  water 
to  wash,  and  gjuve  me  boiled  corn  and  beans  to  eat.  The  next 
da*y  I  was  brough^to  the  centre  of  the  town  and  cried  accord- 
ing to  the  Indian  custom,  in  order  to  be  sent  to  a  fiamiljPof 
Indians  two  hundred  miles  up  stream,  at  Oswegat<my,  and 
th^e  to  be  adopted  and  labused  no  more.  To  this  end  I  was 
deliveieJ^  to  three ^oung  men,  wha  said  I  was  their  brother, 


'f^f 


*% 


^% 


ROBERT   EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


273 


need 
,  and 

f  In- 
ison- 
jstiU 
;,  and" 
their 
e  ran 
nd  as 
d  was 
^uaws 
id  fire 
id  and 
Mont- 
)V'  ten 
1  some 
lice  by 
ich  the 
istress- 
hen  we 
hauled 
,d.     As 
ordered 
nd  wet, 
)are  for 
ndians, 

d  the 

ready 
ting  off 

much 
nd  held 

small 

than 

ye,  and 

I  could 

Indian 


nee 


h 

se 


and  set  forward  on  our  way  to  the  aforesaid  town,  with  about 
twenty  more,  but  by  reason  of  bad  weather  we  were  obliged 
to  encamp  on  a  cold,  stony  shore  three  days,  and  then  proceed- 
ed on.  We  called  at  Conasadauga,  staid  there  about  a  week, 
in  which  time  I  went  and  viewed  four  houses  at  a  distance 
from  the  town,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  each  other,  in 
which  are  represented  in  large  paintings  the  sufTcrings  of  our 
Savior,  designed  to  draw  the  Indians  to  the  papist's  religion^ 
The  work  is  curiously  done.  A  little  further  stand  three 
houses  near  together,  on  a  high  hill,  which  they  call  mount 
Calvary,  with  three  large  crosses  before  them,  which  completes 
the  whole  representation.  To  all  these  houses  the  papists  and 
Indians  repair,  in  performing  their  grand  processions,  which 
takes  up  much  time. 

The  pains  the  papists  take  to  propagate  such  a  bloody  reli- 
gion is  truly  surprising ;  and  the  zeal  they  employ  to  propagate 
superstition  and  idolatry  should  make  Protestants  ashamed  of 
their  lukewarmness.  A  priest  asked  me  "  if  I  was  a  Catho- 
lic." I  answered  him,  "no;"  to  which  he  replied,  "no  bon." 
When  I  told  a  fellow-captive  of  this,  he  said  by  my  answer 
the  priest  understood  that  I  was  not  a  Christian.  Shortly  after 
another  asked  me  the  same  question,  and  I  answered,  "  yes, 
but  not  a  Roman  Catholic ;"  but  he  too  said  "  no  bon !  no 
bon ! " 

We  next  set  off  on  our  journey  for  Oswegatchy,  against  a 
rapid  stream,  and  being  long  in  it,  and  our  provisions  growing 
short,  the  Indians  put  to  shore  a  little  before  night.  My  lot 
was  to  get  wood,  others  were  ordered  to  get  fires,  and  some  to 
hunt.  Our  kettle  was  put  over  the  fire  with  some  pounded 
Indian  corn,  and  after  it  had  boiled  about  two  hours  my  oldest 
Indian  brother  returned  with  a  she  beaver,  big  with  young, 
which  he  soon  cut  to  pieces  and  threw  into  the  kettle,  together 
with  the  guts,  and  took  the  four  young  beavers  whole  as  they 
were  found  in  embryo,  and  put  them  likewise  into  the  kettle, 
and  when  all  was  well  boiled,  gave  each  of  us  a  large  dish  full 
of  the  broth,  of  which  we  eat  freely,  and  then  part  of  the  old 
beaver ;  the  tail  of  which  was  divided  equally  among  us,  there 
being  eight  at  oui  fire.  The  four  young  beavers  were  cut  in 
the  middle,  and  each  of  us  got  half  a  beaver.  I  watched  for 
an  opportunity  to  hide  my  share,  (having  satisfied  myself  be- 
fore that  tender  dish  came  to  hand,)  which  if  4hey  had  seen 
would  have  much  displeased  them.*     The  oilier  Indians  catc'h- 

*  The  *%«ader  will  observe  here  a  parallel  cusiom  to  that  in  practice  a 
hundred  years  before  among  the  Indians  who^carried  otf  Stockwell.  TJiey 
compelled  him  to  drink  raccoon  fat  because  he  wished  to  ^ve  ^ffiue  of  the 
flesh  of  one  for  another  time.    See  Stockw^'s  Na^tive. — ^Ed^  #   .     * 


■nr* 


'^r^ 


^' 


■» 


B 


m 


u 


I 


11 


274 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


i 


ed  young  muskrata,  thrust  a  stick  through  their  bodies,  and 
roasted  it  without  skinniiij^  or  dressing,  and  so  eat  them.  Next 
morning  we  hastened  on  our  journey,  which  continued  ser<  rnl 
days,  'ill  we  came  near  Oswegatchy,  where  we  landed  'ihouf. 
three  miles  from  the  town  on  the  contrary  side  of  the  river. 
Here  I  was  to  be  adopted.  My  father  and  mother,  whom  I 
had  never  seen  before,  were  waiting,  and  ordered  me  into  an 
Indian  house,  where  we  were  directed  to  sit  down  silent  for  a 
considerable  time.  The  Indians  appeared  very  sad,  and  my 
mother  began  to  cry,  and  continued  to  cry  aloud  for  some  time, 
and  then  dried  up  her  tears  and  received  me  for  her  son,  and 
took  me  over  the  river  to  the  Indian  town.  The  next  day  I 
was  ordered  to  go  to  mass  with  them,  but  I  refused  once  and 
again ;  yet  they  continued  their  importunities  several  days. 
Seeing  they  could  not  prevail  with  me,  they  seemed  much  dis- 
pleased with  their  new  son.  I  was  then  sent  over  the  river  to 
be  employed  in  hard  labor,  as  a  punishment  for  not  going  to 
mass,  and  not  allowed  a  sight  of  or  any  conversation  with  my 
fellow-prisoners.  The  old  Indian  man  with  whom  I  was 
ordered  to  work  had  a  wife  and  children.  He  took  me 
into  the  woods  with  him,  and  made  signs  for  me  to  chop,  and 
he  soon  saw  that  I  could  handle  the  axe.  Here  I  tried  to  rec- 
oricile  myself  to  th'-  vimploy,  that  they  might  have  no  occasion 
against  me,  except  con.'-erning  the  law  of  my  God.  The  old 
man  began  to  appear  kind,  and  his  wife  gave  me  milk  and 
bread  wheit  we  cauie  home,  and  when  she  got  fish,  gave  me 
the  gills  to  eat,  out  of  real  kindness;  but  perceiving  I  did  not 
like  them,  gave  me  my  own  choice,  and  behaved  lovingly. 
When  we  had  finished  our  fence,  which  had  employed  us  about 
a  week,  I  showed  the  old  squaw  my  shirt,  (having  worn  it  from 
the  time  I  was  first  take^.  prisoner,  which  was  about  seven 
weeks,)  all  in  rags,  dirt  and  lice.  She  said  it  was  not  good, 
and  brought  me  a  new  one  with  ruffled  sleeves,  saying  "that 
is  good,"  which  I  thankfully  accepted.  The  next  day  they 
carried  me  back  to  the  Indian  towi.,  and  permitted  me  to  con- 
verse with  my  fellow-prisoners.  They  told  me  we  were  all  to 
be  sent  to  Montreal,  which  accordingly  came  to  pass. 

On  our  arrival  at  Montreal  we  had  our  lodgings  first  in  the 
Jesuits'  convent,  where  I  saw  a  great  number  of  priests  and 
people  who  came  to  confession.  After  some  stay  we  were 
ordered  to  attend  with  the  Indians  in  a  grand  council,  held 
before  the  head  gerieraU^yaudreuil.  ^e  prisoners  sat  in  iour 
rank,  (surrounded  with  ^^r  fathers  ^nd  brethren,)  but  were 
asked  no  que^ioA?rv  5"^®^^ '^'sneral  ^^ad-a  tium^er*  of  officers  to 
attend  him  irf^<j||ft[n1iyr,  wh  fjriest," called  Picket,  sat 

at  bi^  right  hofra^who  und@rs|antf!s  *4he  Indian  tongue  well. 


■\^  ^ 


»t 


»J^ 


eacr 


they 


.  in  the 
ists  and 
ire  were 
il,  held 
t  in  pur 
ut  were 

cers  to 
;ket,  sat 

e  well. 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


275 


h  families 

0  under- 

nier  mur- 

ui  ( ailed,  before 


and  does  more  hurt  to  the  English  than  any  other  of  his  order 
in  Cimada.  His  dwelling  is  at  Oswegatchy.  Here  I  was  in- 
formed that  some  measures  wore  concerted  to  destroy  Oswego, 
which  had  been  long  in  agitation.  We  mot  on  our  journey 
manybatteaux  going  up  stream,  with  provision  and  men  for  an 
attack  on  our  frontiers,  which  confirmed  the  report.  The 
council  adjourned  to  another  day,  and  then  broke  up.  My 
Indian  father  and  mother  took  me  with  th'>m  to  several  of  their 
old  acquaintance's,  who  were  French,  to  show  ''"in  their  lately 
adopted  son.  These  persons  had  been  cc  led  with  my 
father  and  other  Indians  in  destroying  mw 
in  their  younger  days,  and,  (as  one  slan'i 
stood  their  language  said,)  were  boasting  o 
ders !  After  some  days  the  council  was  a 
which  several  of  the  Oneida  chiefs  appeared  and  ofFered  some 
complaints  against  the  French's  attacking  our  carrying  place, 
it  being  their  land.  But  the  general  labored  to  make  them 
easy,  and  gave  them  sundry  presents  of  value,  which  they 
accepted.  The  French  are  exceedingly  careful  to  prevent 
spirituous  liquors  being  sold  among  the  Indians,  and  if  any 
inhabitant  is  proved  guilty  of  it,  their  temporal  interest  is  quite 
broken,  and  corporal  punishment  is  inflicted  on  such  offenders. 
Herein  the  French  are  vastly  superior  to  us.  The  Indians  do 
not  fear  our  numbers,  (which  they  deride,)  because  of  our  un- 
happy divisions,  in  consequence  of  which  they  expect  to  con- 
quer us  entirely. 

Knowing  these  Oneidas  were  acquainted  with  Capt.  Wil- 
liams, at  the  carrying  place,  I  sent  a  letter  by  them  to  let  my 
family  and  friends  know  that  I  was  yet  alive,  and  lodged  for 
redemption ;  but  it  never  came  to  hand.  The  treaty  being 
ended,  the  generrJ  sent  about  ten  gallons  of  red  wine  to  the 
Indians,  which  iKey  divided  among  us.  Afterwards  came  the 
presents,  consisting  of  coats,  blankets,  shirts,  skins,  (to  make 
Indian  shoes,)  cloth,  (for  stockings,)  powder,  lead-shot,  and  to 
each  a  bag  of  paint  for  their  own  use,  &c. 

After  we  prisoners  had  our  share  my  mother  came  to  me 
with  an  interpreter,  and  told  me  I  might  stay  in  the  town  at  a 
place  she  had  found  for  me,  if  I  pleased.  This  proposal  I 
almost  agreed  to,  but  one  of  my  fellow-prisoners,  with  whom  I 
had  had  before  some  discourse  about  making  our  escape,  op- 
posed the  motion,  and  said,  "  Pray  do  not  stay,  for,  if  you  do, 
we  shall  not  be.  able,  to  form  a  plan  for  our  deliverance."  So 
I  told  her  I  chose  to  g»,  home  with.?:^her,  and .  soon  set  off  by 
land,  in  bur  Wav«thithejp,  to  Lascli^e^ ^^^t.  frtm  Montreal 
about  nine  miles.^  Hefe  we  left  out^j^anO^^  .and  proceeded 
without  delay  on  our  jovirjUiey,^  in  wKick  I  ^pqnrj^jo  niy  s»rcow, 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Hiotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  145110 

(716)872-4503 


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ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


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great  numbers  of  soldiers  and  much  provisions  in  motion 
towards  lake  Ontario.  After  a  painful  and  distressing  jour* 
ney,  we  arrived  at  Oswegatchy,  where  we  likewise  saw  many 
batteaux,  with  provisions  and  soldiers,  daily  passing  by  in  their 
way  to  Frontenac,  which  greatly  distressed  me  for  Oswego. 
Hence  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  give  our  people  notice  of  their 
danger.  To  this  end,  I  told  two  of  my  felfow-prisoners  that 
it  was  not  a  time  to  sleep,  and  asked  them  if  they  would  go 
with  me,  to  which  they  heartily  agreed.  But  we  had  no  pro- 
vision,  and  were  closely  eyed  by  the  enemy,  so  that  we  could  not 
lay  up  a  stock  out  of  our  allowance.  However,  at  this  time, 
Mr.  Picket  had  concluded  to  dig  a  large  trench  round  the 
town.  I  therefore  went  to  a  negro,  the  principal  manager  of 
this  work,  (who  could  speak  English,  French,  and  Indian 
well,)  and  asked  him  if  he  could  get  employ  for  two  others 
and  myself,  which  he  soon  did.  For  this  service  we  were 
to  have  meat,  [board,]  and  wages.  Here  we  had  a  prospect 
of  procuring  provision  for  our  flight.  This,  after  some  time,  I 
obtained  for  myself,  and  then  asked  my  brethren  if  they  were 
ready.  They  said  '*  they  wefi  not  yet,  but  that  Ann  Bow- 
man (our  fellow*prisoner)  had  brought  one  hundred  and  thirty 
dollars  from  Bull's  fort,  [when  it  was  destroyed,  as  has  been 
telated,]  and  would  give  them  all  they  needed."  1  told  them 
it  was  not  safe  to  disclose  such  a  secret  to  her,  but  they  blamed 
me  for  entertaining  such  fears,  and  applied  to  her  for  provi- 
sions, letting  her  know  our  intention.  She  immediately  in- 
formed the  priest  of  it !  We  were  forthwith  apprehended,  the 
Indians  informed  of  it,  and  a  court  called.  Four  of  us  were 
ordered  by  this  court  to  be  confined  in  a  room,  under  a  strong 
guard,  within  the  fort,  for  several  days.  From  hence,  another 
and  myself  were  sent  to  Cohnewago,  under  a  strong  guard  of 
sixty  Indians,  to  prevent  my  plotting  any  more  against  the 
French,  and  to  banish  all  hope  of  my  escape !    *- 

When  we  arrived  at  this  place,  it  pleased  God  to  incline  the 
captain  of  the  guard  to  show  me  great  kindness  in  giving  me 
liberty  to  walk  or  work  where  I  pleased,  within  any  small  dis- 
tance. I  went  to  work  with  a  French  smith  for  six  livres  and 
five  souF  per  week.  This  sum  the  captain  let  me  have  to  my- 
self, and  further  favored  me  with  the  privilege  of  lodging  at 
his  mother's  house,  (an  English  woman  named  Mary  Harris, 
taken  captive  when  a  child  from  Deerfield,  in  New  England,) 
'who  told  me  she  was  my  grandmother,  and  was  kind;  but 
the  wages  being  small,  and  hot  sufficient  to  procure  such  cloth- 
ing as  I  was  fn  want  of,  I  proceeded  no  fafther  wllh  the  smith, 
but  wenV  to  rhv  Hp4^  Peter,  and  told  him  I  wanted  clothes, 
luidaUuit  it  woaid  M I 


|e  reter,  and  told  mm  i  wanted  clotnes, 
blttei;;  to  \^  jaL%  go  to  Montreal,  and  work 


& 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


277 


the 


f. 


there,  where  I  could  clothe  myself  better  than  by  staying  with 
him.     He  after  some  reasoning  consented. 

I  set  off  on  my  journey  to  Montreal,  and  on  my  entering  the 
city,  met  an  English  smith,  who  took  me  to  work  with  him. 
After  some  time  we  settled  to  work  in  a  shop  opposite  the 
general's  door,  where  we  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  great 
part  of  the  forces  of  Canada,  both  French  and  Indians,  who 
were  commonly  brought  there  before  their  going  out  to  war, 
and  likewise  all  prisoners.  By  this  means  we  got  intelligence 
how  our  people  were  preparing  for  defence ;  but  no  good  news 
from  Oswego,  which  made  me  fear,  knowing  that  great  num- 
bers of  French  had  gone  out  against  it,  and  hearing  there  were 
but  few  to  defend  it. 

Prayers  were  put  up  in  all  the  churches  of  Canada,  and 
great  processions  made,  in  order  to  procure  success  to  their 
arms  against  poor  Oswego ;  but  our  people  knew  little  of  their 
danger  till  it  was  too  late.  For,  to  my  surprise,  the  dismal 
news  came  that  the  French  had  taken  one  of  the  Oswego  forts. 
In  a  few  hours,  in  confirmation  of  this  news,  I  saw  the  Eng- 
lish standards,  the  melancholy  trophies  of  victory,  and  the 
French  rejoicing  at  our  downfall,  and  mocking  us,  poor  pri- 
soners, in  our  exile  and  extremity,  which  was  no  great  argu- 
ment either  of  humanity  or  true  greatness  of  mind.  Great 
joy  appeared  in  all  their  faces,  which  they  expressed  in  loud 
shouts,  firing  of  cannon,  and  returning  thanks  in  their  churches. 
But  our  faces  were  covered  with  shame,  and  our  hearts  filled 
with  grief!* 

Soon  after,  I  saw  several  of  the  officers  brought  in  prisoners 
in  small  parties,  and  soldiers  in  the  same  manner,  who  were 
confined  within  the  wallj  [of  the  fort]  in  a  starving  condition, 
in  order  to  make  them  work,  which  some  complied  with,  while 
others  bravely  refused ;  and  last  of  all  came  the  tradesmen, 
among  whom  \#kis  my  son,  who,  looking  round,  saw  me,  to  his 
great  surprise,  for  he  had  supposed  I  was  dead.  This  joyful 
sight  so  affected  him  that  he  wept ;  nor  could  I  refrain  from 
the  expression  of  a  father's  tenderness,  in  the  same  kind,  upon 
so  extraordinary  an  occasion ;  it  was  far  more  than  I  can  dis- 
close in  writing,  and  therefore  must  cover  it  with  a  veil  of 
silence.  But  he,  with  all  my  Philadelphia  friends^  being 
guarded  by  soldiers,  with  fixed  bayonets,  we  could  not  come 
near  each  other.  They  were  sent  to  the  common  pound,  but 
I  hastened  to  the  interpreter  to  try  to  get  my  son  set  at  liberty, 
which  was  soon  effected.  When  we  had  the  happii^^s  of  an 
interview,  he  gave  me  some  information  of  the  stnte  ^  our 

•  Oswegowas  taken  July  l^tb,  1756,  and  t|0#Biic^  tMlIn^ 


'*,. 


#v'5> 


■0 

• 


prisoners. — Ed. 


34 


«t* 


Ur 


.'i   «^' 


r-ff 


.>r- 


V;K.- 


278 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


**.. 


family,  and  told  me  that,  as  soon  as  the  news  reached  home 
that  1  was  killed  or  taken,  his  mother  was  not  allowed  any 
further  wages  of  mine,  which  grieved  me  much,  and  added  to 
my  other  afflictions. 

In  the  mean  time  it  gave  me  some  pleasure  in  this  situation 
to  see  an  expression  of  equal  affection  and  prudence  in  my 
son's  conduct,  who,  though  young  in  years,  (about  seventeen,) 
that  he,  in  such  a  confused  state  of  things,  had  taken  care  to 
bring,  with  much  labor  and  fatigue,  a  large  bundle,  of  consi- 
derable value  to  me,  of  clothing,  &c.,  '^f  which  I  was  in  great 
need.  He  likewise  saved  a  quaniiiy  of  wampum  which  we 
brought  from  New  York,  and  afterwards  sold  it  here  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty  livres.  He  travelled  with  me  part  of  the 
journey  towards  Oswego,  but  not  being  so  far  on  his  way  as 
I  was  when  taken,  did  not  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands  until 
that  place  was  taken.  At  that  time  he  was  delivered  in  a 
remarkable  manner  from  a  wretched  captivity  among  distant 
Indians.  His  escape  was  in  this  manner :  fifteen  young  white 
prisoners  were  selected  out  to  be  delivered  into  their  power, 
who,  from  a  well-known  custom  among  the  Indians,  there  was 
no  doubt,  were  to  supply  the  places  of  those  they  had  lost  in 
the  war.  Of  this  number  was  my  son.  The  French  artfully 
concealed  their  destination,  and  pretended  they  were  designed 
to  labor  in  the  batteaux.  My  son,  seeing  that  most  of  the 
selection  were  small  lads,  doubted  their  pretensions,  for  they 
were  not  equal  to  such  performance.  Watching  his  opportu- 
nity, he  slipped  from  his  place  in  the  ranks  unnoticed,  and  lay 
concealed  until  his  place  was  filled  by  another.  The  other 
unhappy  youths  were  delivered  up  a  sacrific  >  the  Indian 
enemy,  to  be  instructed  in  popish  principles,  p  e  employed 
in  murdering  their  countrymen,  yea,  perhaps,  iheir  own  fa- 
thers, mothers,  and  brethren  !     O  horrib'e  !     O  lamentable  ! 

The  insatiable  thirst  of  the  French  for  empire*  is  height- 
ened, doubtless,  from  the  pardons  they  receive  from  the  pope 
and  their  priests,  [as  will  appear  from  the  following  facts :] 
:  On  a  Sabbath  day  I  went  to  see  what  was  the  occasion  of  a 
great  concourse  of  people  at  a  chapel.  I  found  a  kind  of  fair, 
at  which  were  sold  cakes,  wine,  brandy,  &c.  Numbers  of 
people  were  going  in  and  out  of  the  chapel,  over  the  door  of 
which  was  a  board  hanging,  and  on  it  was  written,  in  large 
capita^  letters,  "  Indulgence  plenary,  or  full  pardon."  To  return 
to  my  narrative. 


''% 


»jW(f.  <• 


-ti'*' 


*  The  author  wished  probably  to  convey  the  idea  that  the  French  might 

'     commit  any  crimes  in  the  acquisiition  ol'  empire,  without  fear  of  future 

wpunkhment,  so  long  as  ^ey  availed  themselves  of  absolution,  which  it 

jk^  i^pears,  from  his  next  pmgraphi  wasureiy  prominently  held  fortu  — Ed. 


♦•    ♦ 


:^' 


i>  ,jt- 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


279 


might 

future 

?hich  it 

-Ed. 


When  the  people  taken  at  Oswego  were  setting  out  on  their 
way  to  Quebec,  I  made  application  for  liberty  to  go  with  them, 
but  the  interpreter  said  I  was  an  Indian  prisoner,  and  the 
general  would  not  suffer  it  till  the  Indians  were  satisfied ;  and 
as  they  lived  two  hundred  miles  from  Montreal,  it  could  not 
be  done  at  that  time.  Finding  that  all  arguments  on  that 
head  would  not  avail,  because  I  was  not  included  in  the  capitu- 
lation, I  told  the  interpreter  my  son  must  go  and  leave  me, 
to  be  ready  at  Quebec  to  go  home  when  the  Oswego  people 
went,  which  probably  would  be  soon.  He  replied,  "  It  would 
be  better  to  keep  him  with  me,  for  it  might  be  a  mean  to  get 
me  clear  much  sooner." 

The  officers  belonging  to  Oswego  would  gladly  have  had 
me  with  them,  but  found  it  impracticable.  This  was  an  in- 
stance of  kindness  and  condescension  for  which  I  was  greatly 
obliged.  Capt.  Bradley  gave  me  a  good  coat,  vest,  and  shirt, 
and  a  young  gentleiiian,  who  formerly  lived  in  Philadelphia, 
(by  name  James  Stone,  doctor  at  Oswego,)  gave  me  four  pis- 
toles. These  expressions  of  kindness  I  remember  with  grati- 
tude, and,  if  ever  in  my  power,  will  requite.  This  money, 
with  what  my  son  brought  me,  I  was  in  hopes  would  go  far 
towards  procuring  my  release  from  my  Indian  masters.  But 
seeing  a  number  of  prisoners  in  sore  distress,  among  whom  ' 
were  Capt.  Grant  and  Capt.  Shepherd,  and  about  seven  more 
in  company,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  relieve  them,  and  commit 
my  release  to  the  disposal  of  Providence,  nor  was  this  suffered 
to  turn  to  my  disadvantage  in  the  issue,  for  my  deliverance 
was  brought  about  in  due  time,  in  another  and  unexpected 
way.  This  company  informed  me  of  their  intention  to  escape ; 
accordingly  I  gave  them  all  the  help  in  my  power,  saw  them 
clear  of  the  town  on  a  Saturday  evening,  before  the  sentries 
were  set  at  the  gates,  and  advised  them  not  to  part  from  each 
other,  and  delivered  to  Capt.  Shepherd  two  pocket  compasses ; 
but,  contrary  to  this  counsel,  they  parted,  and  saw  each  other 
no  more.  By  their  separating,  Captain  Grant  and  Sergeant 
Newel  were  deprived  of  the  benefit  of  a  compass ;  the  others  got 
safe  to  fort  William  Henry,  as  I  was  informed  by  Sergeant  Hen- 
ry, who  was  brought  in  prisoner,  being  taken  in  a  battle,  wheii  | 
the  gallant  and  indefatigable  Capt.  Rogers  made  a  brave  stand  * 
against  more  than  twice  his  number.*     But  I  have  not  heard  .. 


■li 


J 


■it 


•?..' 


*  A  « 


*  About  the  21st  of  May,  1756,  Capt.  Rogers,  with  only  eleven  men,  am* 
bushed  the  carrying  place  between  lakes  George  and  Champlain,  fired  on 
a  pany  of  twenty-two  Frenchmen,  and  killed  six.    He  had  let  another 
party  of  118  men  pass  only  "a  few  minutes  before,"  who  immediately  ,^  \  ,, 
returned  and  rescued  the  others,  and  obliged  the  English  to  fly.    Rogers  *    ■"' 


4i«. 


says  nothing  about  having  any  of  his  men  talBn,  but  took  one  himSeif.3      i'*^  '     > 

Sogers' Jourrhd.^Ei.  iT  ^  ^«ft  ^^♦#i^*'i 


'.  ¥ 


T|^[5S_t  -—.  J 


280 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


■4 


any  account  of  Capt.  Grant.  I  was  enabled,  through  much 
mercy,  to  continue  communicating  relief  to  other  prisoners  out 
of  the  wages  I  received  for  my  labors,  which  was  forty  livres 
per  month. 

In  the  latter  part  of  winter,  coal  and  iron  were  so  scarce 
that  it  was  difficult  to  get  work.  I  then  offered  to  work  for 
my  board,  rather  than  to  be  thrust  into  a  stinking  dungeon,  or 
sent  among  the  Indians.  The  interpreter  took  some  pains, 
which  I  thankfully  acknowledge,  without  success,  in  my  behalf. 
However,  as  I  offered  to  work  without  wages,  a  Frenchman 
took  me  and  my  son  in  upon  these  terms.  Here  we  staid  one 
week,  and  hearing  of  no  other  chance,  our  employer  offered  us 
thirty  livres  a  month  to  blow  the  bellows  and  strike,  which  I 
did  for  about  two  months,  and  then  was  discharged,  and 
travelled  about,  from  place  to  place,  having  no  fixed  abode. 
In  this  dilemma  I  was  obliged  to  spend  my  little  earnings  for 
food  to  live  upon,  and  my  lodging  was  the  hay-loft.  I  then 
made  my  case  known  to  the  kind  interpreter,  and  requested 
him  to  consider  of  some  means  for  my  relief.  He  said  he 
would. 

Meanwhile,  as  I  was  taking  a  walk  in  the  city,  I  met  an 
Indian  prisoner  [a  prisoner  among  them]  that  belonged  to  the 
town  where  my  father  lived.  He  reported  that  a  great  part  of 
the  Indians  there  had  just  airived  with  the  resolution  to  carry 
iiae  back  with  them ;  and  knowing  him  to  be  a  very  honest 
fellow,  I  believed  him,  and  fled  from  .he  town,  and  concealed 
myself  from  the  Indians.  Schemes  were  now  formed  for  an 
escape,  and  well  prosecuted  to  a  fortunate  issue.  General 
Vaudreuil  gave  me  and  my  son  liberty  (under  his  hand)  to  go 
to  Quebec,  and  to  work  there  at  our  pleasure,  without  confine- 
ment, as  prisoners  of  war.  By  this  means  I  was  freed  from 
paying  a  ransom. 

The  commissary.  Monsieur  Portwee,  [?]  being  about  to  set 
off*  for  Quebec,  my  son  informed  me  I  must  come  to  town  in 
the  evening,  a  passage  being  provided  for  us.  I  waited  till  near 
dark,  and  then  entered  the  town  with  great  caution,  to  escape 
the  .Indians,  who  kept  watch  for  me,  and  had  done  so  for  some 
time,  which  made  it  very  difficult  and  dangerous  to  move ;  but 
as  they  had  no  knowledge  of  my  son,  he  could  watch  their 
motions  without  suspicion.  In  the  morning,  upon  seeing  an 
Indian  set  to  watch  for  me  over  against  the  hpuse  I  was  in,  I 
quickly  maie  my  escape  through  the  baiJk  part  of  the  house, 
over-  afime  high  pickets,  and  so  out  of  the  city  to  the  river-side, 
anil  fled.  A  friend,  knowing  my  scheme  for  deliverance, 
kindly  assisted  rae  to^conceal  myself.  The  commissary  had 
pfow  got  ready  for  his#oyage,  of  which  my  son  gave  me  no- 


^\      - 


to  set 
^n  in 
near 
scape 
Isome 
but 
1  their 
^gan 
in,  1 
^ouse, 
-side, 
tance, 
had 
ie  no- 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


281 


tice.  With  no  lingering  motion  I  repaired  to  the  boat,  was 
received  on  board,  got  off  undiscovered,  and  saw  the  Indians 
no  more !  A  very  narr  jw  and  surprising  escape  from  a  violent 
death !  for  they  had  determined  to  kill  me  if  ever  I  attempted 
to  leave  them. 

I  arrived  at  Quebec  May  1st.  The  honorable  Col.  Peter 
Schuyler,  hearing  of  my  coming  there,  kindly  sent  for  me,  and 
after  inquiries  about  my  welfare  generously  told  me  I  should 
be  supplied,  and  need  not  trouble  myself  for  support.  This 
public-spirited  gentleman,  who  is  indeed  an  honor  to  his  coun- 
try, did  in  like  manner  nobly  relieve  many  other  poor  prisoners 
at  Quebec.  Here  I'  had  full  liberty  to  walk  where  I  pleased 
to  view  the  city,  which  is  well  situated  for  strength,  but  far 
from  being  impregnable. 

Here,  I  hope,  it  will  not  be  judged  improper  to  give  a  short 
hint  of  the  French  governor's  conduct.  Even  in  time  of  peace 
he  gives  the  Indians  great  encouragement  to  murder  and  cap- 
tivate the  poor  inhabitants  on  our  frontiers.*  An  honest  good 
man,  named  William  Ross,  was  taken  prisoner  twice  in  time 
of  peace.  When  he  was  first  taken  he  learned  a  little  of  the 
French  language,  was  afterwards  redeemed,  and  got  to  his 
place  of  abode.  Some  years  after,  he,  with  two  sons,  was  again 
taken,  and  brought  to  Quebec.  The  governor  seeing  the  poor 
man  was  lame,  and  that  one  of  his  legs  was  smaller  than  the 
other,  reproved  the  Indians  for  not  killing  him,  asking  them 
"  what  they  brought  a  lame  man  there  for  who  could  do 
nothing  but  eat!  You  should  have  brought  his  scalp!" 
However,  another  of  his  countrymen,  more  merciful  than  his 
excellency,  knowing  the  poor  prisoner  to  be  a  quiet,  hard- 
working man,  redeemed  him  from  the  Indians,  and  two  other 
Frenchmen  bought  his  two  sons.  Here  they  had  been  slaves 
more  than  three  years  when  I  first  arrived  at  Quebec.  This 
account  I  had  from  Mr.  Ross  himself,  who  further  added,  that 
the  governor  gave  the  Indians  presents  to  encourage  them  to 
proceed  in  that  kind  of  work,  which  is  a  scandal  to  any  civil- 
ized nation,  and  what  many  pagans  would  abhor.  Here,  also, 
I  saw  one  Mr.  Johnson,  who  was  taken  in  a  time  of  peace, 
with  his  wife  and  three  small  children.  A  fourth  was  borii  on 
the  way,  whom  Mrs.  Johnson  named  Captive.t  All  of  these 
had  been  prisoners  between  three  and  four   years.     Several 

*  The  author  certainly  discovers  great  care  for  veracity  in  the  course 
of  his  narrative,  but  he  may  have  erred  here.    We  hope  he  has.— 4Bd. 

f  On  Mrs.  Johnson's  return  out  of  captivity-Ohe  had  published  a  very 
fall  and  excellent  account  of  it,  which  has  sDne  through  at  least  few 
editions  since  1796.    The  last  (l^well,  1834)  »||pite  imperfect.— Ed. 


•#• 


»► 

t 


^ 


288 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


young  men,  and  Mr.  Johnson's  wife's  sister,  were  likewise 
taken  with  them,  and  made  slaves. 

Our  cartel  being  ready,  I  obtained  liberty  to  go  to  England 
in  her.  We  set  sail  the  23d  of  July,  1757,  in  the  morning, 
and  discharged  our  pilot  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
After  that  we  neither  cast  anchor  nor  lead  till  we  got  clear  of 
the  great  river  St.  Lawrence  ;  from  which  I  conclude  the  navi- 
gation to  be  much  safer  than  the  French  have  reported.  In 
28  days  we  arrived  at  Plymouth,  which  occasioned  great  joy 
[to  as],  for  we  were  ragged,  lousy,  sick,  and  in  a  manner 
starved  ;  and  many  of  the  prisoners,  (who  were  in  all  about 
three  hundred,)  were  sick  of  the  small-pox.  Myself  and  son 
having  each  a  blanket  coat,  (which  we  bought  in  Canada  to 
keep  us  warm,)  and  now  expecting  relief,  gave  them  to  poor 
sick  men,  almost  naked.  We  were  not  allowed  to  go  on 
shore,  but  were  removed  to  a  king's  ship,  and  sent  to  Ports- 
mouth, where  we  were  still  confined  on  board  near  two  weeks, 
and  then  removed  to  the  Mermaid,  to  be  sent  to  Boston.  We 
now  repented  our  well-meant  though  rash  charity  in  giving 
our  coats  away,  as  we  were  not  to  get  any  more  ;  all  applica- 
tions to  the  captain  for  any  kind  of  covering  being  in  vain. 
Our  joy  was  turned  into  sorrow  at  the  prospect  of  coming  on  a 
cold  coast,  in  the  beginning  of  winter,  almost  naked,  which  was 
not  a  little  increased  by  a  near  view  of  our  mother  country ; 
the  soil  and  comforts  of  which  we  were  not  suffered  to  touch 
or  taste.* 

"September  the  6th  we  sailed  for  Boston,  with  a  fleet  in  con- 
voy, at  which  we  arrived  on  the  7th  of  November,  in  the 
evening.  It  being  dark,  and  we  strangers  and  poor,  it  was  dif- 
ficult to  get  a  lodging.  I  had  no  shoes,  and  but  pieces  of 
stockings,  and  the  weather  very  cold.  We  were  indeed 
directed  to  a  tavern,  but  found  cold  entertainment  there  ;  the 
master  of  the  house,  seeing  a  ragged  and  lousy  company, 
turned  us  out  to  wander  in  the  dark.  He  was  suspicious  of 
us,  and  feared  we  came  from  Halifax,  where  the  small-pox 
then  was,  and  told  us  he  was  ordered  not  to  receive  such  as 
came  from  thence.  We  soon  met  a  young  man  who  said  he 
could  find  lodgings  for  us,  but  still  detained  us  by  asking 
many  questions.  I  told  him  we  were  in  no  condition  to 
answer  them  till  we  came  to  a  more  comfortable  place,  which 

*  Such  barbarous  treatment  of  poor  i)risoners,  by.a  government  like 

that  of  England,  who  had  hazarded  their  lives  in  its  cause,  is  almost 

.  incredible.    Thus  brutes  might  treat  men,  but  men  will  not  deal  so  •wiih 

men.    A  miserable  old  cartel  hulk  may  contain  germs  destined  to  shake 

the>Uirones  of  tyrants. — Ed. 


1.     * 


«• 


ROBERT  EASTBURN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


283 


con- 
the 
dif- 
of 
eed 
the 


-pox 
as 
he 
king 
in  to 
rhich 

t  like 
ilmost 
with 
shake 


he  quickly  found,  where  we  were  used  well ;  but  as  we  were 
lousy,  we  could  not  expect  beds. 

The  next  morning  we  made  application  for  clothing.  Mr. 
Erving,  son-in-law  to  the  late  General  Shirley,  gave  us  relief, 
not  only  in  respect  of  apparel,  but  also  three  dollars  per  man, 
to  bear  our  charges  to  Newport.  When  I  put  on  fresh  clothes 
I  was  seized  with  a  cold  lit,  which  was  followed  by  a  high 
fever,  and  in  that  condition  obliged  to  travel  on  foot  as  far  as 
Providence,  in  our  way  to  Rhode  Island.  In  this  journey  I 
was  exceedingly  distressed.  Our  comforts  in  this  life  are  often 
embittered  with  miseries,  which  are  doubtless  great  mercies 
when  they  are  suitably  improved.  At  Newport  we  met  with 
Captain  Gibbs,  and  agreed  with  him  for  our  passage  to  New 
York,  where  we  arrived,  November  21st,  and  met  with  many 
friends,  who  expressed  much  satisfaction  at  our  return,  and 
treated  us  kindly,  particularly  Mr.  Livingston  and  Mr.  Wal- 
dron. 

November  the  26th,  1757,  I  arrived  at  Philadelphia,  to  the 
great  joy  of  all  my  friends,  and  particularly  of  my  poor  afflicted 
wife  and  family,  who  thought  they  should  never  see  me  again, 
till  we  met  beyond  the  grave.  Being  returned,  sick  and  weak 
in  body,  and  empty-handed,  not  having  any  thing  for  mj'^  fam- 
ily's and  my  own  support,  several  humane  and  generous  per- 
sons, of  different  denominations,  in  this  city,  without  any  appli- 
cation of  mine,  have  freely  given  seasonable  relief  For 
which  may  God  grant  them  blessings  in  this  world,  and  in  the 
world  to  come  everlasting  life,  for  Christ's  sake ! 

But  to  hasten  to  the  conclusion,  suffer  me  with  humility 
and  sorrow  to  observe  that  our  enemies  seem  to  make  a  V-tter 
use  of  a  bad  religion  than  we  do  of  a  good  one.  They  i  sno 
up  long  before  day  in  winter  and  go  through  the  snow  in 
the  coldest  seasons  to  perform  their  devotions  in  the  churches. 
When  these  are  over  they  return,  to  be  ready  for  their  work 
as  soon  as  daylight  appears.  The  Indians  are  as  zealous  in 
religion  as  the  French.  They  oblige  their  children  to  pray_ 
morning  and  evening,  particularly  at  Canasadauga.  .Mi 

Our  case  appears  to  me  indeed  gloomy,  notwithstanding  our 
enemies  are  inconsiderable  in  numbers,  compared  with  us ;  yet 
they  are  united  as  one  man,  while  we  may  justly  be  compared 
to  a  house  divided  against  itself,  and  therefore  cannot  stand 
long  in  our  present  situation.  May  Almighty  God  graciously 
incline  us  to  look4o  him  for  deliverance,  to  repent  of  oipr  sins, 
reform  our  lives,  and  unite  in  the  vigorous  and  manly  use  of 
all  proper  means  to  this  end.     Amen.     ^^    ,;        :s,^  V^^ 


.,♦- 


•% 


,'    i.''.s'^,»'< 


ffaSi!*'. 


% 


*s 


884 


NARRATIVE 

OP  THE  DESTRUCTION  OP  THE  SETTLEMENT  OP  GREEN- 
BRIER, VIRGINIA,  TOGETHER  WITH  THE  CAPTURE  AND 
SURPRISING  CONDUCT  OF  MRS.  CLENDENIN,  WHO  WAS 
AMONG  THOSE  WHO  ESCAPED  THE  TOMAHAWK  OP  THEf 
INDIANS  AT  THAT  MASSACRE. 


[Whether  the  following  narrative  was  ever  in  print,  except  as  it  stands 
in  Mr.  Martin's  Gazetteer  of  Virginia,  I  have  never  learned.  It  would  seem 
from  the  following  note  accompanying  it  in  that  work,  "that  it  was 
extracted  from  memoirs  of  Indian  wars  on  the  western  frontiers  of  Vir- 
ginia, communicated  to  the  Philosophical  Society  of  Virginia,  by  Charles 
A.  Stuart, 'Esq.,  of  Augusta  Co."— Ed.] 


d^ 


'#• 


ft 
After  peace  was  confirmed  between  England  and  France  in 

the  year  1761,  the  Indians  commenced  hostilities  in  1763,* 

when  all  the  inhabitants  in  Greenbrier  were  totally  cut  off  by 

a  party  of  Indians,  headed  by  the  chief  warrior  Cornstalk.t 

The  principal  settlements  were  on  Muddy  Creek.      These 

Indians,  in  number  about  sixty,  introduced  tnemselves  into  the 

people's  houses  under  the  mask  of  friendship,  where  every 

civility  was  offered  them  by  the  people,  providing  thern  yith 

*  Hostilities  had  not  ceased  between  the  whites  and  the  Indians,  as  will 
be  seen  by  a  reference  to  the  Chronicles  of  the  Iin>iANs  for  this  and  the 
preceding  years. — Ed. 

fThfi  life  and  barbarous  death'of  this  great  chief  are  given  at  length 
in  the  Book  of  thr  Indians,  v.  42, 44.— Ed. 


^•*8;s; 


-^' 


MRS.  CLENDENIN'S  CAPTIVITY. 


285 


kvery 

mil 
kdthe 

ength 


victuals  and  other  accommodations  for  their  entertainment, 
when,  on  a  sudden,  they  fall  upon  and  kill  the  m^n,  and  mako 
prisoners  of  the  women  and  children.  From  thence  they 
passed  over  into  the  Levels,  where  some  families  were  collected 
at  the  house  of  Archibald  Glendenin,  where  the  Honorable 
Balard  Smith  now  lives. ,  There  were  between  fifty  and  one 
hundred  persons,  men,  women  and  children.  There  the 
Indians  were  entertained,  as  nt  Muddy  Creek,  in  the  most  hos* 
pitable  manner.  Mr.  Clendenin  had  just  arrived  from  a  hunt, 
with  three  fat  elks,  upon  which  they  were  feasted  in  a  boun- 
tiful manner. 

In  the  mean  time  an  old  woman,  with  a  sore  leg,  was  show* 
ing  her  distress  to  an  Indian,  and  inquiring  if  he  could  admin- 
ister to  her  any  relief.  He  said  he  thought  he  could,  and 
drawing  his  tomahawk,  instantly  killed  her,  and  all  the  men, 
almost,  that  were  in  the  house.  One,  named  Conrad  Yolkom, 
only  escaped.  He,  being  at  some  distance  from  the  house,  was 
alarmed  by  the  cries  and  shrieks  of  the  women  and  children, 
fled  with  all  his  might  to  Jackson's  river,  and  alarmed  the  peo- 
ple there.  They  however  were  loath  to  believe  his  tale  until 
they  saw  the  Indians  approaching.  All  fled  before  them  ;  and 
they  pursued  on  to  Carr's  Creek,  in  Rockbridge  county,  where 
many  families  were  killed  and  taken  by  them.  At  Clendenin's 
a  scene  of  much  cruelty  was  performed,  not  only  by  the  Indians, 
but  some  such  as  the  terrors  of  their  approach  influenced  thereto. 
In  this  I  refer  to  an  act  committed  by  a  negro  woman,  who  in 
escaping  from  the  Indians  killed  her  own  child,  whose  cries 
she  had  reason  to  fear  would  lead  to  her  capture ! 

Mrs.  Clendenin  did  not  fail  to  abuse  the  Indians  with  her 
tongue,  with  the  most  reproachful  epithets  she  could  command, 
although  the  tomahawk  was  brandishing  at  the  same  moment 
overhead ;  but  instead  of  bringing  it  down  upon  her,  the  less 
eflfectual  means  of  silencing  her  clamors  was  resorted  to, 
namely,  lashing  her  in  the  face  and  eyes  with  the  bleeding 
scalp  of  her  dead  husband  ! 

The  provisions  were  all  taken  over  to  Muddy  Creek,  and  a 
party  of  Indians  retained  them  there  till  the  return  of  the  oth- 
ers from  Carr's  Creek,  when  the  whole  were  marched  off  to- 
gether. On  the  day  they  started  from  the  foot  of  Kenney's 
Knob,  going  over  the  mountain,  Mrs.  Clendenin  gave  her 
infant  child  to  another  female  prisoner,  to  carry,  to  relieve 
her  for  a  few  paces,  and  in  a  few  moments  after,  a  favorable 
opportunity  ofTering  for  escape,  she' improved  it  with  such, 
alacrity  into  a  dense  thicket  which  they  were  at  the  time  pass- 
ing, that  not  an  Indian  saw  her  or  could  tell  which  way  she 
went.    The  opportunity  was  rendered  more  favorable  by  the 


\\ 


r.» 


1^ 

• 

• 

t. 

*4                   **      • 

*^ 


I  '  I 


286 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


Ji 


manner  in  which  the  Indians  at  the   time  were  marching 
They  had  placed  the  prisoners   in  the  centre,  and   dividinff 
themselves  into  two  companies,  one  marched  before  them  and 
the  other  followed  in  their  rear,  having  each  flank  open,  and 
this  gave  her  the  desired  chance  of  escape. 

It  was  not  until  all  had  left  the  place  that  the  cries  of  Mrs. 
Clendenin's  child  caused  the  Indians  to  inquire  for  its  mother. 
When  they  found  she  had  made  her  escape,  a  monster  Indian 
observed  "  he  would  bring  the  cow  to  her  calf,"  and  taking  the 
infant  by  the  heels,  dashed  out  its  brains  against  a  tree  !  and 
as  though  this  was  not  enough,  the  miscreant  throwing  it  down 
into  the  van,  the  whole  company  marched  over  it,  the  hoofs  of 
the  horses  tearing  out  its  bowels,  and  the  feet  of  the  Indians 
tracked  the  ground  as  they  went  with  its  blood  ! 

Mrs.  Clendenin  returned  that  night  to  her  own  house,  a  dis- 
tance of  more  than  ten  miles.  Here  she  found  her  husband's 
dead  body,  which  she  covered  with  rails.  She  found  him  as 
he  had  been  killed,  with  one  of  his  children  in  his  arms.  He 
was  shot  down  as  he  was  making  his  escape  over  a  fence. 
She  now  returned  to  her  friends  ;  and  thus  ends  the  remark- 
able, though  short  captivity  of  a  woman,  more  to  be  admired 
for  her  courage  than  some  other  qualities  not  less  desirable  in 
the  female  character. 


NARRATIVE 


OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  OF  ALEXANDER  HENRY,  ESQ.,  WHO,  IN 
THE  TIME  OF  PONTIAK'S  WAR,  FELL  INTO  THE  HANDS  OP 
THE  HURON  INDIANS.  DETAILING  A  FAITHFUL  ACCOUNT 
OF  THE  CAPTURE  OF  THE  GARRISON  OF  MICHILIMACKI- 
NAC,  AND  THE  MASSACRE  OF  ABOUT  NINETY  PEOPLE.- 
WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF.  ^0^, 

[Mr.  Henry  was  an  Indian  trader  in  America  for  about  sixteen  years. 
He  came  to  Canada  with  the  army  of  General  Amherst,  ana  pre- 
vious to  his  being  made  prisoner  by  the  Indians  experienced  a  variety  of 
fortune.  His  narrative,  as  will  be  seen,  is  written  with  great  candor  as 
well  as  ability,  and  to  the  discriminating  reader  needs  no  encomium. 
He  was  living  in  Montreal  in  1809,  as  appears  from  the  date  of  his  pre- 
face to  his  Travels,  which  he  published  in  New  York  that  year,  with  a  dedi- 
cation to  Sir  Joseph  Banks. — Ed.] 

When  I  reached  Michilimackinac  I  found  several  other 
traders,  who  had  arrived  before  me,  from  different  parts  of  the 
country,  an^  who,  in  geneiail,  declared  the  dispositions  of  the 
Indians  to  be  hostile  to  the  English,  and  even  apprehended 


?V 


■M 


-*, 


^iv 


tL 


*Nft.. 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


S87 


J  ears, 
pre- 
Iriety  of 
lidoT  as 
pmium. 
tis  pre- 
a  dedi- 


other 
lof  the 
lof  the 
tended 


some  attack.  M.  Laurent  Ducharme  distinctly  informed 
Major  Etherington  that  a  plan  was  absolutely  conceived 
for  destroying  him,  his  garrison  and  all  the  lilnglish  in  the 
upper  couiitry  ;  but  the  commandant  believing  this  and  other 
reports  to  be  without  foundation,  proceeding  only  from  idle  or 
ill-disposed  persons,  and  of  a  tendency  to  do  mischief,  express- 
ed much  displeasure  against  M.  Ducharme,  and  threatened  to 
send  the  next  person  who  should  bring  a  story  of  the  same 
kind,  a  prisoner,  to  Detroit. 

The  garrison,  at  this  time,  consisted  of  ninety  privates,  two 
subalterns  and  the  commandant ;  and  the  English  merchants 
at  the  fort  were  four  in  number.  Thus  strong,  few  entertained 
anxiety  concerning  the  Indians,  who  had  no  weapons  but  small 
arms. 

Meanwhile,  the  Indians,  from  every  luarter,  were  daily 
assembling,  in  unusual  numbers,  but  with  t  "ery  appearance  of 
friendship,  frequenting  the  fort,  and  disposing  of  their  peltries, 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  dissipate  almost  ever)  one's  fears.  For 
myself,  on  one  occasion,  I  took  the  liberty  of  observing  to 
Major  Etherington  that,  in  my  judgment,  no  confidence  ought 
to  be  placed  in  them,  and  that  I  was  informed  no  less  than  four 
hundred  lay  around  the  fort. 

In  return  the  major  only  rallied  me  on  my  timidity  ;  and  it 
is  to  be  confessed  that  if  this  officer  neglected  admonition,  on 
his  part,  so  did  I  on  mine.  Shortly  after  my  first  arrival  at 
Michilimackinac,  in  the  preceding  year,  a  Chippeway,  named 
Wawatam,  began  to  come  often  to  my  house,  betraying  in  his 
demeanor  strong  marks  of  personal  regard.  After  this  had 
continued  some  time,  he  came  on  a  certain  day,  bringing  with 
him  his  whole  family,  and  at  the  same  time  a  large  present, 
consisting  of  skins,  sugar  and  dried  meat.  Having  laid  these 
in  a  heap,  he  commenced  a  speech,  in  which  he  informed  me 
that  some  years  before  he  had  observed  a  fast,  devoting  him- 
self, according  to  the  custom  of  his  nation,  to  solitude,  and  to 
the  mortification  of  his  body,  in  the  hope  to  obtain,  from  the 
Great  Spirit,  protection  through  all  his  days;  that  on  this 
occasion  he  had  dreamed  of  adopting  an  Englishman  as  his 
son,  brother  and  friend ;  that  from  the  moment  in  which  he 
first  beheld  me  he  had  recognised  me  as  the  person  whom  the 
Great  Spirit  had  been  pleased  to  point  out  to  him  for  a  brother^v 
that  he  hoped  that  I  would  not  refuse  his  present ;  and  that  he  " 
should  forever  regard  me  as  one  of  his  family. 

I  could  do  no  otherwise  than  accept  the  present,  and  declare 
my  willingness  to  have  so  good  a  man  as  this  appealed  to  be  for 
my  friend  and  brother.  I  offered  a  present  in  return  for  that 
which  I  had  received,  which  Wawatam  accepted,  and  then» . 


\% 


>-», 


r 


288 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I 


thanking  me  for  the  favor  which  he  said  that  I  had  rendered 
him,  he  left  me,  and  soon  after  set  out  on  his  winter's  hunt. 

Twelve  months  had  now  elapsed  since  the  occurrence  of  this 
incident,  and  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  person  of  my  brother, 
when,  on  the  second  day  of  June,  Wawatam  came  again  to 
my  house,  in  a  temper  of  mind  visibly  melancholy  and 
thoughtful.  He  told  me  that  he  had  just  returned  from  his 
winteri?ig  ground,  and  I  asked  after  his  health  ;  but  without 
answering  my  question,  he  went  on  to  say,  that  he  was  sorry 
to  find  me  returned  from  the  Sault ;  that  he  intended  to  go  to 
that  place  himself,  immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Michili- 
mackinac ;  and  that  he  wished  me  to  go  there  along  with  him 
and  his  family  the  next  morning.  To  all  this  he  joined  an 
inquiry,  whether  or  not  the  commandant  had  heard  bad  news, 
adding  that  during  the  vv  inter  he  had  himself  been  frequently 
disturbed  with  the  noise  of  evil  birds  ;  and  further  suggesting 
that  there  were  numerous  Indians  near  the  fort,  many  of  whom 
had  never  shown  themselves  within  it.  Wawatam  was  about 
forty-five  years  of  age,  of  an  excellent  character  among  his 
nation,  and  a  chief. 

Referring  much  of  what  I  heard  to  the  peculiarities  of  the 
Indian  character,  I  did  not  pay  all  the  attention  which  they 
will  be  found  to  have  deserved  to  the  entreaties  and  remarks  of 
my  visitor.  I  answered  that  I  could  not  think  of  going  to  the 
Sault  so  soon  as  the  next  morning,  but  would  follow  him 
there  after  the  arrival  of  my  clerks.  Finding  himself  unable 
to  prevail  with  me,  he  withdrew  for  that  day ;  but  early  the 
next  morning  he  came  again,  bringing  with  him  his  wife, 
and  a  present  of  dried  meat.  At  this  interview.-  after  stating 
that  he  had  several  packs  of  beaver,  for  which  he  intended  to 
deal  with  me,  he  expressed  a  second  time  his  apprehensions, 
from  the  numerous  Indians  who  were  round  the  fort,  and  ear- 
nestly pressed  me  to  consent  to  an  immediate  departure  for  the 
Sault.  As  a  reason  for  this  particular  request,  he  assured  me 
that  all  the  Indians  proposed  to  come  in  a  body,  that  day,  to 
the  fort,  to  demand  liquor  of  the  commandant,  and  that  he 
wished  me  to  be  gone  before  they  should  ^row  intoxicated. 

I  had  made,  at  the  period  to  which  I  am  now  referring,  so 
much  progress  in  the  language  in  whicii  Wawatam  addressed 
me,  as  to  be  able  to  hold  an  ordinary  conversation  in  it ;  but 
the  Indian  manner  of  speech  is  so  extravagantly  figurative  that  it 
is  only  for  a  perfect  master  to  follow  and  comprehend  it  entirely. 
Had  I  been  further  advanced  in  this  respect,  I  think  that  I 
should  haye  gathered  so  much  information,  from  this  my 
friendly  monitor,  as  would  have  put  me  into  possession  of  the 
design  of  the  enemy,  and  enabled  me  to  save  as  well  others  as 


■M 


hf^- 


m 


)f  the 
they 
•ks  of 
to  the 
him 
inable 
iy  the 
wife, 
|tating 
led  to 
isions, 
Id  ear- 
for  the 
sd  me 
ay,  to 
at  he 
d. 
ng,  so 
Iressed 
;  but 
that  it 
Ltirely. 
that  I 
s  my 
lof  the 
ers  as 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S   CAPTIVITY. 


289 


myself;  as  it  was,  it  unfortunately  happened  that  I  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  every  thing,  leaving  Wawatam  and  his  wife, 
after  long  and  patient^  but  inefTectual  efllbrts,  to  depart  alone, 
with  dejected  countenances,  and  not  before  they  had  each  let 
fall  some  tears. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day,  I  observed  that  the  Indians 
came  in  great  numbers  into  the  fort,  purchasing  tomahawks, 
(small  axes  of  one  pound  weight,)  and  frequently  desiring  to 
see  silver  arm-bands,  and  other  valuable  ornaments,  of  which 
I  had  a  large  quantity  for  sale.  The  ornaments,  however, 
they  in  no  instance  purchased,  but,  after  turning  them  over, 
left  them,  saying  that  they  would  call  again  the  next  day.  Their 
motive,  as  it  afterward  appeared,  was  no  other  than  the  very 
artful  one  of  discovering,  by  requesting  to  see  them,  the  par- 
ticular places  of  their  deposit,  so  that  they  might  lay  their 
hands  on  them  in  the  moment  of  pillage  with  the  greater  cer* 
tainty  and  dispatch. 

At  night,  I  turned  in  my  mind  the  visits  of  Wawatam  ;  but, 
though  they  were  calculated  to  excite  uneasiness,  nothing  in- 
duced me  to  believe  that  serious  mischief  was  at  hand.  The 
next  day,  being  the  fourth  of  June,  was  the  king's  birth-day. 

The  morning  was  sultry.  A  Chippeway  came  to  tell  me 
that  his  nation  was  going  to  play  at  baggatiway,  with  the 
Sacs  or  Saakies,  another  Indian  nation,  for  a  high  wager.  He 
invited  me  to  witness  the  sport,  adding  that  the  commandant 
was  to  be  there,  and  would  bet  on  the  side  of  the  Chippeways. 
In  consequence  of  this  information,  I  went  to  the  commandant, 
and  expostulated  with  him  a  little,  representing  thai  the  Indians 
might  possibly  have  som^  sinister  end  in  view ;  but  the  com- 
mandant only  smiled  at  my  suspicions. 

Baggatiway,  called  by  the  Canadians  le  jeu  de  la  crosse,  is 
played  with  a  bat  and .  ball.  The  bat  is  about  four  feet  in 
length,  curved,  and  terminating  in  a  sort  of  racket.  Two  posts 
are  planted  in  the  ground,  at  a  considerable  distance  from  each 
other,  as  a  mile  or  more.  Each  party  has  its  post,  and  the 
game  consists  in  throwing  the  baM  up  to  the  post  of  the  adver- 
sary. The  ball  at  the  beginning  is  placed  in  the  middle  of 
the  course,  and  each  party  endeavors  as  well  to  throw  the  ball 
out  of  the  direction  of  its  own  post,  as  into  that  of  the  adver- 
sary's. "' 

I  did  not  go  myself  to  see  the  match  which  was  now  to  be 
played  without  the  fort,  because,  there  being  a  canoe  prepared  to 
depart,  on  the  following  day,  for  Montreal,  I  employed  myself 
in  writing  letters  to  my  friends  ;  and  even  when  n^  fellow-tra- 
der, Mr.  Tracy,  happened  to  call  upon  me,  saying  that  another 
canoe   had  just  arrived   from  Detroit,  and  proposing  that  L 


25 


r  *t 


f^. 


.h-  . 


'A*- 


Mt 


290 


ALEXANDER   HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


[ 


should  go  with  him  to  the  beach,  to  inquire  the  news,  Jt  so 
happened  that  I  still  remained,  to  finish  my  letters  ;  promising 
to  follow  Mr.  Tracy  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes.  Mr. 
Tracy  had  not  gone  more  than  twenty  paces  from  the  door, 
when  I  heard  an  Indian  war-cry,  and  a  noise  of  general  con- 
fusion. 

Going  instantly  to  my  window,  I  saw  a  crowd  of  Indians, 
within  the  fort,  furiously  cutting  down  and  scalping  every 
Englishman  they  found.  In  particular,  I  witnessed  the  fate  of 
Lieutenant  Jemette. 

I  had  in  the  room  in  which  I  was  a  fowling-piece,  loaded 
with  swan-shot.  This  I  immediately  seized,  and  held  it  for  a 
few  minutes,  waiting  to  hear  the  drum  beat  to  arms.  In  this 
dreadful  interval  I  saw  several  of  my  countrymen  fall,  and 
more  than  one  struggling  between  the  knees  of  an  Indian,  who, 
holding  him  in  this  manner,  scalped  him  while  yet  living. 

At  length,  disappointed  in  the  hope  of  seeing  resistance  made 
to  the  enemy,  and  sensible  of  course  that  no  effort  of  my  own 
unassisted  arm  could  avail  against  four  hundred  Indians,  I 
thought  only  of  seeking  shelter.  Amid  the  slaughter  which 
was  raging,  I  observed  many  of  the  Canadian  inhabitants  of 
the  fort  calmly  looking  on,  neither  opposing  the  Indians  nor 
suffering  injury;  and  from  this  circumstance  I  conceived  a 
hope  of  finding  security  in  their  houses. 

Between  the  yard-door  of  my  own  house  and  that  of  M. 
Langlade,  my  next  neighbor,  there  was  only  a  low  fence,  over 
which  I  easily  climbed.  At  my  entrance  I  found  the  whole 
family  at  the  windows,  gazing  at  the  scene  of  blood  before 
them.  I  addressed  myself  immediately  to  M.  Langlade,  beg- 
ging that  he  would  put  me  into  some  place  of  safety,  until  the 
heat  of  the  affair  should  be  over ;  an  act  of  charity  by  which 
he  might  perhaps  preserve  me  from  the  general  massacre ;  but 
while  I  uttered  my  petition,  M.  Langlade,  who  had  looked  for 
a  moment  at  me,  turned  again  to  the  window,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  and  intimating  that  he  could  do  nothing  for  me : — 
"  Que  voudriez-vous  que  fen  ferais  ?  " 

This  was  a  moment  for  despair;  but  the  next,  a  Pani  wo- 
man,* a  slave  of  M.  Langlade's,  beckoned  to  me  to  follow  her. 
She  brought  me  to  a  door,  which  she  opened,  desiring  me  to 
enter,  and  telling  me  that  it  led  to  the  garret,  where  I  must  go 
and  conceal  myself.  I  joyfully  obeyed  her  directions;  and 
she,  having  followed  me  up  to  the  garret-door,  locked  it  after 
me,  and  with  great  presence  of  mind  took  aw^ay  the  key.        •*; 

This  shelter  obtained,  if  shelter  I  could  hope  to  find  it,  I  was 

;,  ^  '  *The  Fanies  are  an  Indian  nation  of  the  south. 


■■■.AL 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


291 


of  M. 

;e,  over 
whole 
before 

le,  beg- 

itil  the 

which 

•e ;  but 

Iked  for 
ing  his 
me: — 

ini  wo- 

)W  her. 

me  to 

mst  go 

^s ;  and 

it  after 

ft,  I  was 


naturally  anxious  ;  know  what  might  still  be  passing  without. 
Through  an  apertore,  which  afforded  me  a  view  of  the  area  of 
the  fort,  I  beheld,  in  shapes  the  foulest  and  most  terrible,  the 
ferocious  triumphs  of  barbarian  conquerors.  The  dead  were 
scalped  and  mangled ;  the  dying  were  writhing  and  shrieking 
under  the  unsatiated  knife  and  tomahaAvk ;  and  from  the  bodies 
of  some,  ripped  open,  their  butchers  were  drinking  the  blood, 
scooped  up  in  the  hollow  of  joined  hands,  and  quaffed  amid 
■  shouts  of  rage  and  victory.  I  was  shaken  not  c  ly  with  horror, 
but  with  fear.  The  sufferings  which  I  witnessed,  I  seemed  on 
the  point  of  experiencing.  No  long  time  elapsed  before,  every 
one  being  destroyed  who  could  be  found,  there  was  a  general 
cry  of  ••  All  is  finished ! "  At  the  same  instant  I  heard  some 
of  the  Indians  enter  the  house  in  which  I  was. 

The  garret  was  separated  from  the  room  below  only  by  a 
layer  of  single  boards,  at  once  the  flooring  of  the  one  and  the 
ceiling  of  the  other.  I  could  therefore  hear  every  thing  that 
passed  ;  and  the  Indians  no  sooner  came  in  than  they  inquired 
whether  or  not  any  Englishman  were  in  the  house.  M.  Lang- 
lade replied  that  "he  could  not  say;  he  did  not  know  of  any;" 
answers  in  which  he  did  not  exceed  the  truth ;  for  the  Pani 
woman  had  not  only  hidden  me  by  stealth,  but  kept  my  secret 
and  her  own.  M.  Langlade  was  therefore,  as  I  presume,  as 
i^r  from  a  wish  to  destroy  me  as  he  was  careless  about  saving 
ine,  when  he  added  to  these  answers,  that  "  they  might  exa- 
mine for  themselves,  and  would  soon  be  satisfied  as  to  the 
object  of  their  question."  Saying  this,  he  brought  them  to  the 
garret-door. 

The  state  of  my  mind  will  be  imagined.  Arrived  t,t  the 
door,  some  dfelay  was  occasioned  by  the  absence  of  the  key, 
and  a  few  moments  were  thus  allowed  me  in  which  to  look 
around  for  a  hiding-place.  In  one  corner  of  the  garret  was  a 
heap  of  those  vessels  of  birch-bark  used  in  maple-sugar  making, 
as  I  have  recently  described. 

The  door  was  unlocked  and  opening,  and  the  Indiana  ascend- 
ing the  stairs,  before  I  had  completely  crept  into  a  small  open- 
ing which  presented  itself  at  one  end  of  the  heap.  An  instant 
after,  four  Indians  entered  the  room,  all  armed  with  tomahawks, 
and  all  besmeared  with  blood  upon  every  part  of  their  bodies. 

The  die  appeared  to  be  cast.  I  could  scarcely  breathe ;  but 
I  thought  that  the  throbbing  of  my  heart  occasioned  a  noise 
loud  enough  to  betray  me.  The  Indians  walked  in  every 
direction  about  the  garret,  and  one  of  them  approached  me  so 
closely  that  at  a  particular  moment,'  had  he  put  forth  his  hand, 
he  must  have  touched  me.  Still  I  remained  undiscovered;  a 
circumstance  to  which  the  dark  color  of  my  clothes,  and  the 


**♦ 


** 


:v%, 


292 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


.1  '.•■ 


want  of  light  in  a  room  which  had  no  window,  and  in  the 
corner  in  which  I  was,  must  have  contributed.  In  a  word,  after 
taking  several  turns  in  the  room,  during  which  they  told  M. 
Langlade  how  many  they  had  killed,  and  how  many  scalps 
they  had  taken,  they  returned  down  stairs,  and  I,  with  sensa- 
tions not  to  be  expressed,  heard  the  door,  which  was  the  barrier 
between  me  and  my  fate,  locked  for  the  second  time. 

There  was  a  feather-bed  on  the  floor  ;  and  on  this,  exhausted 
as  I  was  by  the  agitation  of  my  mind,  I  threw  myself  down 
and  fell  asleep.  In  this  state  I  remained  till  the  dusk  of  the 
evening,  when  I  was  awakened  by  a  second  opening  of  the 
door.  The  person  that  now  entered  was  M.  Langlade's  wife, 
who  was  much  surprised  at  finding  me,  but  advised  me  not  to 
be  uneasy,  observing  that  the  Indians  had  killed  most  of  the 
English,  but  that  she  hoped  I  might  myself  escape.  A  shower 
of  rain  having  begun  to  fall,  she  had  come  to  stop  a  hole  in  the 
roof.  On  her  going  away,  I  begged  her  to  send  me  a  little 
water  to  drink ;  which  she  did. 

As  night  was  now  advancing,  I  continued  to  lie  on  the  bed, 
ruminating  on  my  condition,  but  unable  to  discover  a  resource 
from  which  I  could  hope  for  life.  A  flight  to  Detroit  had  no 
probable  chance  of  success.  The  distance  from  Michilimacki- 
nac  was  four  hundred  miles ;  I  was  without  provisions ;  and 
the  whole  length  of  the  road  lay  through  Indian  countrieau 
countries  of  an  enemy  in  arms,  where  the  first  man  whom# 
should  meet  would  kill  me.  To  stay  where  I  was  threatened 
nearly  the  same  issue.  As  before,  fatigue  of  mind,  and  not 
tranquillity,  suspended  my  cares,  and  procured  me  further  , 
sleep. 

The  game  of  baggatiway,  as  from  the  description  above  will 
have  been  perceived,  is  necessarily  attended  with  much  vio- 
lence and  noise.  In  the  ardor  of  contest,  the  ball,  as  has  been 
suggested,  if  it  cannot  be  thrown  to  the  goal  desired,  ia  struck 
in  any  direction  by  which  it  can  be  diverted  from  that  designed 
by  the  adversary.  At  such  a  moment,  therefore,  nothing  could 
be  less  liable  to  excite  premature  alarm,  than  that  the  ball 
should  be  tossed  over  the  pickets  of  the  fort,  nor  that,  having 
fallen  there,  it  should  be  followed  on  the  instant  by  all  engaged 
in  the  game,  as  well  the  one  party  as  the  other,  all  eager,  all 
struggling,  all  shouting,  all  in  the  unrestrained  pursuit  of  a 
rude  athletic  exercise.  Nothing  could  be  less  fitted  \^  excite 
premature  alarm;  nothing,  therefore,  could  be  more  happily 
devised,  under  the  circumstances,  than  a  stratagem  like  this; 
and  this  was,  in  fact,  the  stratagem  which  the  Indians  had  em- 
ployed, by  which  they  had  obtained  possession  of  the  fort,  and 
by  which  they  had  been  enabled  to  slaughter  and  subdue  its 


s?'- 

S 


*'- 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITS. 


293 


will 
h  vio- 
been 
struck 
signed 
could 
le  ball 
laving 
gaged 
er,  all 
t  of  a 
excite 
appily 
i  this ; 
d  em> 
t,  and 
ue  its 


garrison,  and  such  of  its  other  inhabitants  'ea  they  pleased.  To 
be  still  more  certain  of  success,  they  had  prevailed  upon  aa 
many  as  they  could,  by  a  pretext  the  least  liable  to  suspicion, 
to  come  voluntarily  without  the  pickets ;  and  particularly  the 
commandant  and  garrison  themselves. 

The  respite  which  sleep  afforded  me,  during  the  night,  was 
put  an  end  to  by  the  return  of  morning.  I  was  again  on  the 
rack  of  apprehension.  At  sunrise,  I  heard  the  family  stirring ; 
and  presently  after  Indian  voices,  informing  M.  Langlade  that 
they  had  not  foand  my  hapless  self  among  the  dead,  and  that 
they  supposed  me  to  be  somewhere  concealed.  M.  Langlade 
appeared,  from  what  followed,  to  be  by  this  time  acquainted 
with  the  place  of  my  retreat,  of  which,  no  doubt,  he  had  been 
informed  by  his  wife.  The  poor  woman,  as  soon  as  the  In- 
dians mentioned  me,  declared  to  her  husband,  in  the  French 
tongue,  that  he  should  no  longer  keep  me  in  his  house,  but 
deliver  me  up  to  my  pursuers ;  giving  as  a  reason  for  this 
measure,  that,  should  the  Indians  discover  his  instrumentality 
in  my  concealment,  they  might  revenge  it  on  her  children,  and 
that  It  was  better  that  I  should  die  than  they.  M.  Langlade 
resisted  at  first  this  sentence  of  his  wife's,  but  soon  suffered 
her  to  prevail,  informing  the  Indians  that  he  had  been  told  I 
was  in  his  house,  that  I  had  come  there  without  his  knowledge, 
and  that  he  would  put  me  into  theit  hands.  This  was  no 
aooner  expressed  than  he  began  to  ascend  the  stairs,  the  In- 
dians following  upon  his  heels. 

I  now  resigned  myself  to  the  fate  with  which  I  was  menaced ; 
and  regarding  every  attempt  at  concealment  as  vain,  I  arose 
•from  the  bed,  and  presented  myself  full  in  view  to  the  Indians 
who  were  entering  the  room.  They  were  all  in  a  state  of 
intoxication,  and  entirely  naked,  except  about  the  middle.  One 
of  them,  named  Wenniway,  whom  I  had  previously  known, 
and  who  was  upward  of  six  feet  iu  height,  had  his  entire  face 
and  body  covered  with  charcoal  and  grease,  only  that  a  white 
spot,  of  two  inches  in  diameter,  encircled  either  eye.  This 
man,  walking  up  to  me,  seized  me  with  one  hand  by  the  collar 
of  the  coat,  while  in  the  other  he  held  a  large  carving  knife, 
as  if  to  plunge  it  into  my  breast ;  his  eyes  meanwhile  were 
fixed  steadfastly  on  mine.  At  length,  after  some  seconds  of  the 
most  anxious  suspense,  he  dropped  his  arm,  saying,  "  I  won't 
kill  you ! "  To  this  he  added,  that  he  had  been  frequently 
engage*  in  wars  against  the  English,  and  had  brought  away 
many  scalps  ;  that  on  a  certain  occasion  he  had  lost  a  brother, ' 
whose  name  was  Musinigon,  and  that  I  should  be  called  after 
him. 

A  reprieve  upon  any  terms  placed  me  among  the  living,  and 
25*  '    , 


!  I'lt 


'     fl 


n 


^im.. 


.0- 


S94 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I!   I\ 


t  ■ 


gave  me  blick  the  sustaining  voice  of  hope  ;  but  Wenniway 
ordered  me  down  stairs,  and  there  informing  me  that  I  was  to 
be  taken  to  Iiis  cabin,  where,  and  indeed  everywhere  else,  the 
Indians  were  all  mad  with  liquor,  death  again  was  threatened, 
and  not  as  possible  only,  but  as  certain.  I  mentioned  my  fears 
on  this  subject  to  M.  Langlade,  begging  him  to  represent  the 
danger  to  my  master.  M.  Langlade,  in  this  instance,  did  not 
withhold  his  compassion,  and  Wenniway  immediately  consented 
that  I  should  remain  where  I  was,  until  he  found  another  op- 
portunity to  take  me  away. 

Thus  far  secure,  I  re-ascended  my  garret-stairs,  in  order  to 
place  myself  the  furthest  possible  out  of  the  reach  of  insult 
from  drunken  Indians ;  but  I  had  not  remained  there  more  than 
an  hour,  when  I  was  called  to  the  room  below,  in  which  was 
an  Indian,  who  said  that  I  must  go  with  him  out  of  the  fort, 
Wenniway  having  sent  him  to  fetch  me.  This  man,  as  well 
as  Wenniway  himself,  I  had  seen  before.  In  the  preceding 
year,  I  had  allowed  him  to  take  goods  on  credit,  for  which  he 
was  still  in  my  debt ;  and  some  short  time  previous  to  the  sur- 
prise of  the  fort  he  had  said,  upon  my  upbraiding  him  with 
want  of  honesty,  that  "  he  would  pay  me  before  long ! "  This 
speech  now  came  fresh  into  my  memory,  and  led  me  to  suspect 
that  the  fellow  had  formed  a  design  against  my  life.  I  com- 
municated the  suspicion  to  M.  Langlade ;  but  he  gave  for 
answer  that  "  I  was  not  now  my  own  master,  and  must  do  HI 
I  was  ordered." 

The  Indian,  on  his  part,  directed  that  before  I  left  the  house 
I  should  undress  myself,  declaring  that  my  coat  and  shirt  would 
become  him  better  than  they  did  me.  His  pleasure  in  this 
respect  being  complied  with,  no  other  alternative  was  left  me 
than  either  to  go  out  naked,  or  to  put  on  the  clothes  of  the  In- 
dian, which  he  freely  gave  me  in  exchange.  His  motive  for 
thus  stripping  me  of  my  own  apparel  was  no  other,  as,  I  after- 
ward learned,  than  this,  that  it  might  not  be  stained  wrai  blood 
when  he  should  kill  me. 

I  was  now  told  to  proceed  ;  and  my  driver  followed  me  close, 
until  I  had  passed  the  gate  of  the  fort,  when  I  turned  toward 
the  spot  where  I  knew  the  Indians  to  be  encamped.  This, 
however,  did  not  suit  the  purpose  of  my  enemy,  who  seized 
rae  by  the  arm,  and  drew  me  violently  in  the  opposite  direction, 
to  the  distance  of  fifty  yards  above  the  fort.  Here,  finding  that 
I  was  approaching  the  bushes  and  sand-hills,  I  determined  to 
proceed  no  further,  hut  told  the  Indian  that  I  believed  he  meant 
to  murder  me,  and  that  if  so  he  might  as  well  strike  where  i 
was  as  at  any  greater  distance.  He  replied,  with  coolness,  that 
my  suspicions  were  just,  and  that  he  meant  to  pay  me  in  this 


m..':^i- 


fw 


4* 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


995 


?It  me 
In- 

ve  for 
after- 
blood 


ned  to 

here  "1 
lis,  that 
this 


maimer  for  my  goods.  At  the  same  time  he  produced  a  knife, 
and  held  me  in  a  position  to  receive  the  intended  blow.  Both 
this  and  that  which  followed  were  necessarily  the  affair  of  a 
moment.  By  some  eflbrt,  too  sudden  and  too  little  dependent 
on  thought  to  be  explained  or  remembered,  I  was  enabled  to 
arrest  his  arm,  and  give  him  a  sudden  push,  by  which  I  turned 
him  from  me,  and  released  myself  from  his  grasp.  This  was 
no  sooner  done  than  I  ran  toward  the  fort,  with  all  the  swift- 
ness in  my  power,  the  Indian  fallowing  roe,  and  I  expecting 
every  moment  to  feel  his  knife.  I  succeeded  in  my  ..ight; 
and,  on  entering  the  fort,  I  saw  Wenniway  standing  in  the 
midst  of  the  area,  and  to  him  1  hastened  for  protection.  Wen- 
niway  desired  the  Indian  to  desist ;  but  the  latter  pursued  me 
Tound  him,  making  several  strokes  at  me  with  his  knife,  and 
foaming  at  the  mouth  with  rage  at  the  repeated  failure  of  his 
purpose.  At  length  Wenniway  drew  near  to  M.  Langlade's 
house ;  and  the  door  being  open,  I  ran  into  it.  The  Indian 
followed  me ;  but  on  my  entering  the  house,  he  voluntarily 
abandoned  the  pursuit. 

Preserved  so  often,  and  so  unexpectedly,  as  it  had  now  been 
my  lot  to  be,  I  returned  to  my  garret,  with  a  strong  inclina- 
tion to  believe  that,  through  the  will  of  an  overruling  power, 
no  Indian  enemy  could  do  me  hurt ;  but  new  trials,  as  I  believed, 
were  at  hand,  when,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  I  was  roused 
loom  sleep,  and  once  mure  desired  to  descend  the  stairs.  Not 
less,  however,  to  my  satisfaction  than  surprise,  1  was  sum- 
moned only  to  meet  Major  Etherington,  Mr.  Bostwick  and 
Lieutenant  Lesslie,  who  were  in  the  room  below. 

These  gentlemen  had  been  taken  prisoners,  while  looking 
at  the  game,  without  the  fort,  and  immediately  stripped  of  all 
their  clothes.  They  were  now  sent  into  the  fort,  under  the 
charge  of  Canadians,  because,  the  Indians  having  resolved  on 
getting  drunk,  the  chiefs  were  apprehensive  that  they  would 
be  muwiered  if  they  continued  in  the  camp.  Lieutenant 
Jemette  and  seventy  soldiers  had  been  killed  ;  and  but  twenty 
Englishmen,  including  soldiers,  were  still  alive.  These  were 
all  within  the  fort,  together  with  nearly  three  hundred  Cana- 
dians belonging  to  the  canoes,  &c. 

These  being  our  numbers,  myself  and  others  proposed  to  Maj. 
Etherington  to  make  an  effort  for  regaining  possession  of  the  fort, 
and  maintaining  it  against  the  Indians.  The  Jesuit  raissionary 
was  consulted  on  the  project ;  but  he  discouraged  us,  by  his  rep- 
resentations, not  only  of  the  merciless  treatment  which  we  must 
eflkpect  from  tho  Indians,  should  they  regain  their  superiority, 
but  of  the  little  dependence  which  was  to  be  placed  upon  our 
Canadian  auxiliaries.     Thus  the  fort  and  prisoners  remained 


f!fr 


'Mi 


:tSan' 


# 


•no 


m- 


^.i'^'-.." 


296 


ALEXANDER    HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


k; 


t 


*.    ... 


i 

I 


in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  though,  through  the  whole  night, 
the  prisoners  and  whites  were  in  actual  possession,  and  they 
were  without  the  gates. 

That  whole  night,  or  the  greater  part  of  it,  was  passed  ixi 
mutual  condolence;  and  my  fellow-prisoners  shared  my  garret. 
In  the  morning,  being  again  called  down,  I  found  my  master 
Wenniway,  and  was  desired  to  follow  him.  He  led  me  to  a  smalP^ 
house,  within  the  fort,  where,  in  a  narrow  room,  and  almost 
dark,  I  found  Mr.Ezekiel  Solomons,  an  Englishman  from  Detroit, 
and  a  soldier,  all  prisoners.  With  these,  I  remained  in  pain- 
ful suspense,  as  to  the  scene  that  was  next  to  present  itself,  till 
ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  when  an  Indian  arrived,  and  pres- 
ently marched  us  to  the  lake-side,  where  a  canoe  appeared 
ready  for  departure,  and  in  which  we  found  that  we  were  to 
embark. 

Our  voyage,  full  of  doubt  as  it  was,  would  have  commenced 
immediately,  but  that  one  of  the  Indians,  who  was  to  be  of 
the  party,  was  absent.  His  arrival  was  to  be  waited  for ;  and 
this  occasioned  a  very  long  delay,  during  v/hich  we  were 
exposed  to  a  keen  north-east  wind.  An  old  shirt  was  all  that 
covered  me ;  I  suffered  much  from  the  cold ;  and  in  this 
extremity,  M.  Langlade  coming  down  to  the  beach,  I  asked 
him  for  a  blanket,  promising  if  I  lived  to  pay  him  for  it,  at  any 
price  he  pleased  ;  but  the  answer  I  received  was  this,  that  he 
could  let  me  have  no  blanket  unless  there  were  some  one  |li 
be  security  for  the  payment.  For  myself,  he  observed,  I  had 
no  longer  any  property  in  that  country.  I  had  no  more  to  say 
to  M.  Langlade;  but  presently  seeing  another  Canadian, 
named  John  Cuchoise,  I  addressed  to  him  a  similar  request,  and 
was  not  refused.  Naked  as  I  was  and  rigorous  as  was  the 
weather,  but  for  the  blanket  I  must  have  perished.  At  noon, 
our  party  was  all  collected,  the  prisoners  all  embarked,  and  we 
steered  for  the  Isles  du  Castor,  [Beaver  Island,]  in  lake  Mkhigan. 

The  soldier  who  was  our  conipahioh  in  misfortune  vfm  made 
fast  to  a  bar  of  the  canoe,  by  a  rope  tied  round  his  neck,  as 
is  the  manner  of  the  Indians  in'  transporting  their  prisoners. 
The  rest  were  left  unconfined ;  but  a  paddle  was  put  into  each 
of  our  hands,  and  we  were  made  to  use  it.  The  Indians  in 
the  canoe  were  seven  in  number,  the  prisoners  four.  I  had 
left,  as  it  will  be  recollected.  Major  Etherington,  Lieutenant 
Lesslie  and  Mr.  Bostwick,  at  M.  Langlade's,  and  was  now 
joined  in  misery 'with  Mr.  Ezekiel  Solomons,  the  soldier,  afid 
the  Englishman  who  had  newly  arrived  from  Detroit.  This 
was  on  the  sixth  day^  of  June.  The  fort  was  taken  on  tlft 
fourth  ;  I  surrendered  myself  tp  Wenniway  oa  the  fifth ;  and 
this  was  the  third  day  of  our  distress.  ^-     .  ...  . 


^ 


l0^ 


r 

DM 


:.0^ 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


297 


meed 
be  of 
;  and 
were 
I  thai 
i  this 
asked 
It  any 
lat  he 
ne  li 
had 
©  say 
.dian, 
t,  and 
,s  the 
noon, 
id  we 
igan. 
made 
ick,  as 
loners, 
each 
ns  in 
I  had 
Itenant 
Is  now 
r,  alld  ^r 
This^ 
Ion  t)re 
and 


We  were  bound,  as  I  have  said,  for  the  Isles  du  Castor, 
which  lie  in  the  mouth  of  lake  Michigan;  hnd  we  should 
have  crossed  the  lake,  but  that  a  thick  fog  came  on,  on  account 
of  which  ihe  Indians  deemed  it  safer  to  keep  the  shore  close 
under  their  lee.  We  therefore  approached  the  lands  of  the 
Ottawas,  and  their  village  of  L'Arbre  Croche,  already  men- 
tioned as  lying  about  twenty  miles  to  the  westward  of  Michili- 
mackinac,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  tongue  of  land  on  which 
the  fort  is  built. 

Every  half  hour,  the  Indians  gave  their  war-whoops,  one 
for  every  prisoner  in  their  canoe.  This  is  a  general  custom, 
by  the  aid  of  which  all  other  Indians,  within  hearing,  are 
apprized  of  the  number  of  prisoners  they  are  carrying. 

In  this  manner,  we  reached  Wagoshense,  Fox-point,  a  long 
point,  stretching  westward  into  the  lake,  and  which  the  Ottawas 
make  a  carrying  place,  to  avoid  going  round  it.  It  is  distant 
eighteen  miles  from  Michilimackinac.  After  the  Indians  had 
made  their  war-whoop,  as  before,  an  Ottawa  appeared  upon  the 
beach,  who  made  signs  that  we  should  land.  In  consequence, 
we  approached.  The  Ottawa  asked  the  news,  and  kept  the 
Chippeways  in  further  conversation,  till  we  were  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  land,  and  in  shallow  water.  At  this*  moment,  a 
Hundred  men  rushed  upon  us,  from  among  the  bushes,  and 
dragged  all  the  prisoners  out  of  the  canoes,  amid  a  terrifying 
iHtout. 

We  now  believed  that  our  last  sufferings  were  approaching; 
but  no  sooner  were  we  fairly  on  shore,  and  on  our  legs,  than 
the  chiefs  of  tlie  party  advanced,  and  gave  each  of  us  their 
hands,  telling  us  that  they  were  our  friends,  and  Ottawas, 
whom  the  Chippeways  had  insulted,  by  destroying  the  English 
without  consulting  with  them  on  the  affair.  They  added  that 
what  they  had  done  was  for  the  purpose  of  saving  our  lives,  the 
Chipp^ays  having  been. carrying  us  to  the  Isles  du  Castor 
only  Ifl^ill  and  devour  us. 

The  reader's  imagination  is,  here  distracted  by  the  variety  of 
our  fortunes,  and  he  may  well  paint  to  himself  the  state  of  mind 
of  those  who  sustained  them,  who  were  the  sport  or  the  vic- 
tims of  a  series  of  events,  more  like  dreams  than  realities, 
more  like  fiction  than  truth !  It  was  not  long  before  we  were 
embarked  again,  in  the  canoes  of  the  Ottawas,  who,  the  same 
evening,  relanded  us  at  Michilimackinac,  wh^e  they  marched 
^^0  into  the  fort,  in  view  of  the  Chippeways,  confounded  at 
1)tholding  the  Ottawas  espouse  a  side  opposite  to  their  own. 

The  Ottawas,  who  had  accompanied  us  in  sufficient  num- 
bers, took  possession  of  the  fort;    We,  who  had  changed  mas- 


.>m 


■^.4^-: 


m 


!l 


v 


JV 


*»s. 


898 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


■ 


•/ 


i 


ters,  but  were  still  prisoners,  were  lodged  in  the  house  of  the 
commandant,  and  strictly  guarded. 

Early  the  next  morning,  a  general  council  was  held,  in 
which  the  Chippeways  complained  much  of  the  conduct  of 
the  Ottawas  in  robbing  them  of  their  prisoners  ;  alleging  that 
all  the  Indians,  the  Ottawas  alone  excepted,  were  at  war  with 
the  English  ;  that  Pontiac  had  taken  Detroit ;  that  the  king 
of  France  had  awoke,  and  repossessed  himself  of  Quebec  atid 
Montreal ;  and  that  the  English  were  meeting  destruction, 
not  only  at  Michilimackinac,  but  in  every  other  part  of  the 
world.  From  all  this  they  inferred  that  it  became  the  Ottawas 
to  restore  the  prisoners,  and  to  join  in  Cue  war ;  and  the  speech 
w^as  followed  by  large  presents,  being  part  of  the  plunder  of 
the  fort,  and  which  was  previously  heaped  in  the  centre  of 
the  room.  The  Indians  rarely  make  their  answers  till  the  day 
after  they  have  heard  the  arguments  offered.  They  did  not 
depart  from  their  custom  on  this  occasion  ;  and  the  council 
therefore  adjourned. 

We,  the  prisoners,  whose  fate  was  thus  in  controversy,  were 
unacquainted  at  the  time  with  this  transaction ;  and  therefore 
enjoyed  a  night  of  tolerable  tranquillity,  not  in  the  least  sus- 
pecting the,  reverse  which  was  preparmg  for  us.     Which  of 
the   arguments   of  the  Chippeways,  or  whether  or   not  all 
were   deemed   valid  by  the  Ottawas,  I  cannot  say ;  but  the 
.council  was  resumed  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning,  nnfl, 
after  several  speeches  had  been  made  in  it,  the  prisoners  were 
sent  fqr,  and  returned  to  the  Chippeways. 
*         The  Ottawas,   who  now  gave   us  into  the  hands  of  the 
Chippeways,  had  themselves  declared  that  the  latter  designed 
no  other  than  to  kill  us,  and  make  broth  of  us.     The  Chippe- 
ways, as  soon  as  we  were  restored  to  them,  marched  us  to  a 
village  of  their  own,  situate  on  the  point  which  is  below  the 
fort,  and  put  us  into  a  lodge,  already  the  prison  of  fourteen 
soldiers,  tied  two  and  two,  with  each  a  rope  about  his  neck,  and 
*     made  fast  to  a  pole  which  might  be  called  tlie  supporter  of  the 
^         building. 
jK  I  was  left  untied  ;  but  I  passed  a  night  sleepless  and  full  of 

wretchedness.      My  bed   was  the  bare  ground,   and   I  was 
again   reduced   to  an  old  shirt,  as   my  entire   apparel ;  the 
^      ,      blanket  which  I  had  received,  through  the  generosity  of  M. 
^:E   ^*^^  Cuchoise,  having  been  taken  from  me  among  the  Ottawas, 
■  '  when  they  seizeaupon  myself  and  the  others,  at  Wagoshense. .. 

I  was,  besides,  in  want  of  food,  having  for  two  days  eaten  noth- 
^i^,;  in^.  4,- 

I  confess  that  in  the  can«|p  with   the  Cl^ppeways  I  was 
*    offered  bread ;  but,  bread,  with  what  accompaniment!    They 


m 


-.iSfe: 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


299 


5k, 


full  of 
I  was 

i\;  the 
of  M. 

ttawas, 

^hense... 
I  noth- 

I  was 
They 


had  a  loaf,  which  they  cut  with  the  same  knives  that  they  had 
employed  in  the  massacre — knives  still  covered  with  blood. 
The  blond  they  moistened  with  spittle,  and  rubbing  it  on 
the  bread,  offered  this  for  food  to  their  prisoners,  telling  them 
to  eat  the  blood  of  their  countrymen. 

Such  was  my  situation  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of 
June,  in  the  year  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sixty-three; 
but  a  few  hours  produced  an  event  which  gave  still  a  new 
color  to  my  lot. 

Toward  noon,  when  the  great  war-chief,  in  company  with 
Wenniway  was  seated  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  lodge,  my 
friend  and  brother,  Wawatam,  suddenly  came  in.  During 
the  four  days  preceding,  I  had  often  wondered  what  had 
become  of  him.  In  passing  by  he  gave  me  his  hand,  but 
went  immediately  toward  the  great  chief,  by  the  side  of  whom 
and  WenniwaVi  he  sat  himself  down.  The  most  uninterrupted 
silence  prevailed ;  each  smoked  his  pipe ;  and  this  done, 
Wawatam  arose,  and  left  the  lodge,  saying  to  me,  as  he  passed, 
"  Take  courage  !" 

An  hour  elapsed,  during  which  several  chiefs  entered,  and 
preparations  appeared  to  be  making  for  a  council.  At  length, 
Wawatam  re-entered  the  lodge,  followed  by  his  wife,  and  both 
loaded  with  merchandise,  which  they  carried  up  to  the  chiefs, 
and  laid  in  a  heap  before  them.  Some  moments  of  silence 
followed,  at  the  end  of  which  Wawatam  pronounced  a  speech,  **: 
every  word  of  which,  to  me,  was  of  extraordinary  interest : 

"  Friends  and  relations,"  he  began,  "  what  is  it  that  I*  shall 
say  ?  You  know  what  I  feel.  You  all  have  friends  and 
brothers  and  children,  whom  as  yourselves  you  love  ;  and  you, 
what  would  you  experience,  did  you,  like  me,  behold  your 
dearest  friena — your  brother — in  the  condition  of  a  slave; 
a  slave,  exposed  every  moment  to  insult,  and  to  menaces  of 
death  ?  '^^^his  case,  as  you  all  know,  is  mine.  See  there 
{pointing  to  myself)  my  friend  and  brother  among  slaves,  him- 
self a  slave ! 

"  You  all  well  know  that  long  before  the  war  began  I 
adopted  him  as  my  brother.  From  that  moment  he  became 
one  of  my  family,  so  that  no  change  of  circumstances  could 
break  the  cord  which  fastened  us  together. 

"  He  is  my  brother;  and,  because  I  am  your  relation,  he  is 
therefore  your  relation  too : — and  how,  being  your  relation,  can    • 
he  be  your  slave  ? 

"  On  the  day  on  which  the  war  began,  you  were  fearful, 
lest  on  this  vesjry  account  I^should  reveal  your  secret. 
You  requested,  iherefore,  that  %  would  leave  the  fort,  and 
even  cross  the  lake.    I  did  &o,  but  did  it  with  relucfanoa. 


%-^ 


* 


v/ 


^:4* 

# 

'  4^ 

aoo 


ALEXANDER  HeAbY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


\ 


* 


':•?' 


I 


I  did  it  with  reluctance,  notwithstanding  that  ^ou,  Meneh- 
wehna,  who  had  the  command  in  this  enterprise,  gave  m« 
Your  promise  that  you  would  protect  my  friend,  delivering  him 
from  all  danger,  and  giving  him  safely  to  me. 

"  The  performance  of  this  promise  I  now  claim.  I  come 
not  with  empty  hands  to  ask  it.  You,  Menehwehna,  best 
know  whether  or  not,  as  it  respects  yourself,  you  have  kept 
your  word,  but  I  bring  these  goods,  to  buy  off  every  claim 
which  any  man  among  you  all  may  have  on  my  brother,  as  his 
prisoner." 

Wawatam  having  ceased,  the  pipes  were  again  filled ;  and, 
after  they  were  finished,  a  further  period  of  silence  followed. 
At  the  end  of  this,  Menehwehna  arose,  and  gave  his  reply  : 

"  My  relation  and  brother,"  said  he,  "  what  you  have  spoken 
is  the  truth.  We  were  acquainted  with  the  friendship  which 
subsisted  between  yourself  and  the  Englishman,  in  whose 
behalf  you  have  now  addressed  us.  We  knew  the  danger  of 
having  our  secret  discovered,  and  the  consequences  whiph 
must  follow ;  and  you  say  truly  that  we  requested  you  to  leave 
the  fort.  This  we  did  out  of  regard  for  you  and  your  family ; 
for,  if  a  discovery  of  our  design  had  been  made,  you  would 
have  been  blamed,  whether  guilty  or  not ;  and  you  would  thus 
have  been  involved  in  difficulties  from  which  you  could  not 
have  extricated  yourself. 

"  It  is  also  true  that  I  promised  you  to  take  care  of  yotir 
friend ;  and  this  promise  I  performed,  by  desiring  my  son, 
at  the  moment  of  assault,  to  seek  him  out,  and  bring  him 
to  my  lodge.  He  went  accordingly,  but  could  not  find  him. 
The  day  after  I  sent  him  to  Langlade's,  when  he  was  informed 
that  your  friend  was  safe  ;  and  had  it  not  been  that  the  Indians 
were  then  drinking  the  rum  which  had  been  found  in  the  fort, 
he  would  have  brought  him  home  with  him,  according  to  *  my 
orders. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  your  friend  has  escaped.  We 
accept  your  present;  and  you  may  take  him  home  with 
you." 

Wawatam  thanked  the  assembled  chiefs,  and  takin"  :t,-  by 
the  hand,  led  me  to  his  lodge,  which  was  at  the  atsiunce  of  a 
few  yards  only  from  the  prison-lodge.  My  entrance  appeared 
.to  givv?  joy  to  the  whole  family;  food  was  immediately  pre- 
pared Ut  me ;  and  I  now  ate  the  first  hearty  meal  which  I  had 
made  P'rca  my  capture.  I  found  myself  one  of  the  family ; 
and  bur  tm..  I  r  <  d  still  my  fears,  as  to  the  other  Indians,  I  felt 
as  happy  as  th^siiuation  could  allow. 

In  ihe  co'irse  of  the  next  mbrning,  I  was  alarmed  by  a  noise 
in  the  prison-lodge ;  aad  looking  through  the  openings  of  thfe 


.r.  ^. , 


he: 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


301 


yoor 

son, 

him 

hira. 

Ibrnied 

dians 

e  fort, 

,o*my 

We 

with 


l:v 


e  ot  a 
eared 

ly  pre- 
Ihad 

imily ; 

\,  I  felt 

noise 
of  the 


^  dge  in  which  I  was,  I  saw  seven  dead  bodies  of  white  men 
dragged  forth.  Upon  my  inquiry  into  the  occasion,  I  was 
informed  that  a  certain  chief,  called  by  the  Canadians  Le  Grand 
Sable,  had  not  long  before  ir rived  from  his  winter's  hunt;  and 
that  he,  having  been  absent  when  the  war  begun,  and  being 
now  desirous  of  manifesting  to  the  Indiana  ut  large  his  hearty 
concurrence  in  what  they  hnd  done,  had  gone  into  the  prison- 
lodge,  and  there  with  his  knife  put  the  seven  men  whose  bodies 
I  had  seen  to  death. 

Shortly  ader,  two  of  the  Indians  took  one  of  the  dead  bodies, 
uLirh  ihey  chose  as  being  the  fattest,  cut  oflf  the  head,  and 
divided  the  whole  into  five  parts,  one  of  which  was  put  into 
each  of  five  kettles,  huns;  over  as  many  fires  kindled  for  this 
purpose,  at  the  door  of  the  prison-lodge.  Soon  after  things 
were  so  far  prepared,  a  message  came  to  our  lodge,  with  an 
invitation  to  Wawatam  to  assist  at  the  feast. 

An  invitation  to  a  feast  is  given  by  him  who  is  the  master 
of  it.  Small  cuttings  of  cedar  wood,  of  about  four  inches  in 
length,  supply  the  place  of  cards ;  and  the  bearer  by  word  of 
mouth  states  the  particulars. 

Wawatam  obeyed  the  summons,  taking  with  him,  as  is  usual, 
to  the  place  of  entertainment,  his  dish  and  spoon. 

After  an  absence  of  about  half  an  hour,  he  returned,  bringing 
lui  his  dish  a  human  hand,  and  a  large  piece  of  flesh.  He  did 
not  appear  to  relish  the  repast,  but  told  me  that  it  was  then, 
and  always  had  been  the  custom  among  all  the  Indian  nations, 
when  returning  from  war,  or  on  overcoming  their  enenties,  to 
make  a  war-feast  from  among  the  slain.  This  he  said  inspir- 
ed the  warrior  with  courage  in  attack,  and  bred  him  to  meet 
death  with  fearlessness. 

In  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  a  large  canoe,  such  as  those 
which  came  from  Montreal,  was  seen  advancing  to  the  fort. 
It  was  4bll  of  men,  and  I  distinguished  several  passengers. 
The  Indian  cry  was  made  in  the  village ;  a  general  muster' 
ordered  ;  and  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  they  marched  up 
to  the  fort,  where  the  canoe  was  expected  to  land.  The  canoe, 
suspecting  nothing,  came  boldly  to  the  fort,  'where  the  passen- 
gers, as  being  English  traders,  were  seized,  dragged  through 
the  water,  beat,  reviled,  marched  to  the  prison-lodge,  and  there- 
stripped  of  ti*eir  clothes  and  confined.  *'■* 

Of  the  Eifeglbh  traders  that  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians 
at  the  captiai«  of  the  fort,  Mr.  Tracy  was  the  oi^ly  one  who 
lost  his  U^  Mr.  Ezekiel  Solomons  and  Mr.  Henry  Bostwick 
were  tak&«t>  by  the  Of^%^vas,  and  after  the  peace  carried  down 
to  Montreal,  aojd  thunt  ransomed.  Of  ninety  troops,  about 
seventy  were  killed ;  the  rest,  together  with  those  of  the  posts^ 


I  .i 


m 


^: 


96 


"# 


302 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


|:.t. 


'^ 


in  the  Bay  des  Puants,  and  at  the  river  Saint  Joseph,  were 
also  kept  in  safety  by  the  Ottawas  till  the  peace,  and  then  either 
freely  restored,  or  ransomed  at  Montreal.  The  Ottawas  never 
overcame  their  disgust  at  the  neglect  with  which  they  had 
been  treated,  in  the  beginning  of  the  war,  by  those  who  after- 
ward desired  their  assistance  as  allies. 

,  In  the  morning  of  the  ninth  of  June,  a  general  council  was 
held,  at  which  it  was  agreed  to  remove  to  the  island  of  Michi- 
limackinac,  as  a  more  defensible  situation  in  the  event  of  an 
attack  by  tijb  English.  The  Indians  had  begun  to  entertain 
apprehensions  of  want  of  strength.  No  news  had  reached 
them  from  the  Potawatamies,  in  the  Bay  des  Puants  ;  and  they 
were  uncertain  whether  or  not  the  Monomins*  would  join  them. 
They  even  feared  that  the  Sioux  would  take  the  English  side. 

This  resolution  fixed,  they  prepared  for  a  speedy  retreat. 
At  noon  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and  we  embarked,  taking 
with  us  the  prisoners  that  were  still  undisposed  of.  On  our 
passage  we  encountered  a  gale  of  wind,  and  there  were  some 
appearances  of  danger.  To  avert  it,  a  dog,  of  which  the  legs 
were  previously  tied  together,  was  thrown  into  the  lake ;  an 
offering  designed  to  soothe  the  angry  passions  of  some  offended 
Manito. 

As  we  approached  the  island,  two  women  in  the  canoe  in 
which  I  was  began  to  utter  melancholy  and  hideous  cries.. 
Precarious  as  my  condition  still  jremained,  I  experienced  some 
sensations  of  alarm  from  these  dismal  sounds,  of  which  I  could 
not  then  discover  the  occasion.  Subsequently,  I  learned  that 
it  is  customary  for  the  women,  on  passing  near  the  burial-places 
of  relations,  never  to  omit  the  practice  of  which  I  was  now  a 
witness,  and  by  which  they  intend  to  denote  their  grief. 

By  the  approach  of  evening  we  reached  the  island  in  safety, 
and  the  women  were  not  long  in  erecting  our  cabins.  In  the 
morning,  there  was  a  muster  of  the  Indians,  at  which  there 
were  found  three  hundred  and  fifty  fighting  men. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  there  arrived  a  canoe  from  Detroit, 
with  ambassadors,  who  endeavored  to  prevail  on  the  Indians 
to  repair  thither  to  the  assistance  of  Pontiac  ;  but  feasr  was  now 
the  prevailing  passion.  A  guard  was  kept  during  the  day,  and 
a  watch  by  night,  and  alarms  were  very  frequently  spread. 
Had  an  enemyappeared,  all  the  prisoners  would  have  been  put 
I'd  death ;  ana  I  suspected  that,  as  an  Englishman,  I  should 
share  their  fate. 

♦  Manomines,  or  Malomines.    In  the  first  syllable,  the  substitution  oft 
for  »,  and  n  for  /,  marks  one  of  the  differences  in  the  Chippeway  and  Al- 
^nquin  dialects.    In  the  mouth  of- an  Algonquin,  it  is  Miehilimackinac 
■'Va  thai  o£  a.  Chippewsiy,  Michinimackinac. . 

.■   i 

"  ■■"•■.■«-■•      ^ 


hI 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S   CAPTIVITY. 


303 


on  of  t 
,nd  Al- 
ckinac 


Several  days  had  now  passed,  when  one  morning  a  contin- 
ued alarm  prevailed,  and  I  saw  the  Indians  running  in  a  con- 
fused manner  toward  the  beach.  In  a  short  time  I  learned 
that  two  large  canoes  from  Montreal  were  in  sight. 

All  the  Indian  canoes  were  immediately  manned,  and  those 
from  Montreal  were  surrounded  and  sei'?ed,  as  they  turned  a 
point  behind  which  the  flotilla  had  been  concealed.  The  goods 
were  consigned  to  a  Mr.  Levy,  and  would  have  been  saved  if 
the  canoe  men  had  called  them  French  property ;  but  they  were 
terrified  and  disguised  nothing.  ^ 

In  the  canoes  was  a  large  proportion  of  liquor,  a  dangerous 
acquisition,  and  which  threatened  disturbance  among  the  In- 
dians, even  to  the  loss  of  their  dearest  friends.  Wawatam, 
always  watchful  of  my  safety,  no  sooner  heard  the  noise  ot 
drunkenness,  which  in  the  evening  did  not  fail  to  begin,  than 
he  represented  to  me  the  danger  of  remaining  in  the  village, 
and  owned  that  he  could  not  himself  resist  the  temptation  of 
joining  his  comrades  in  the  debauch.  That  I  might  escape  all 
mischief,  he  therefore  requested  that  I  would  accompany  him 
to  the  mountain,  where  I  was  to  remain  hidden  till  the  liquor 
should  be  drank. 

We  ascended  the  mountain  accordingly.  It  is  this  mountain 
which  constitutes  that  high  land  in  the  middle  of  the  island, 
j?f  which  I  have  spoken  before,  as  of  a  figure  considered  as 
resembling  a  turtle,  and  therefore  called  Michilimackinac.  It 
is  thickly  covered  with  wood,  and  very  rocky  toward  the  top. 
After  walking  more  than  half  a  mile,  we  came  to  a  large  rock, 
at  the  base  of  which  was  an  opening,  dark  within,  and  appear- 
ing to  be  the  entrance  of  a  cave. 

Here,  Wawatam  recommended  that  I  should  take  up  my 
lodging,  and  by  all  means  remain  till  he  returned. , 

On  going  into  the  cave,  of  which  the  entrance  was  nearly 
ten  feet  wide,  I  found  the  further  end  to  be  rounded  in  its  shape, 
like  that  of  an  oven,  but  with  a  further  aperture,  too  small, 
however,  to  be  explored. 

After  thus  looking  around  me,  I  broke  small  branches  from 
the  trees,  and  spread  them  for  a  bed  ;  then  wrapped  myself  in 
my  blanket,  and  slept  till  daybreak. 

On  awaking  I  felt  myself  incommoded  by  some  object  upon 
which  I  lay  ;  and  removing  it,  found  it  to  be  a  bone.  This  I 
supposed  to  be  that  of  a  deer,  or  some  other  animal,  and  what 
might  very  naturally  be  looked  for  in  the  place  in  which  it  was ; 
but,  when  daylight  visited  my  chamber,  I  discovered,  with  some 
feelings  of  horror,  that  I  was  lying  on  nothing  less  than  a  heap 
of  human  bonei|  and  skulls,  which  covered  all  the  floor ! 

The  day  passed  without  the  return  of  Wawatam,  and  with- 


ij 


<    •*• . 


'#'♦ 


p. 


I 


304 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


out  food.  As  night  approached,  I  found  myself  unable  to  meet 
its  darkness  in  the  charnel-house,  which,  nevertheless,  I  had 
yiewed  free  from  uneasiness  during  the  day.  1  chose,  there- 
fore, an  adjacent  bush  for  this  night's  lodging,  and  slept  under 
it  as  before ;  but  in  the  morning,  I  awoke  hungry  and  dispir- 
ited,  and  almost  envying  the  dry  bones,  to  the  view  of  which  1 
returned.  At  length  the  sound  of  a  foot  reached  me,  and  my 
Indian  friend  appeared,  making  many  apologies  for  his  long 
absence,  the  cause  of  which  was  an  unfortunate  cess  in  the 
enjoyment  ^f  his  liquor. 

This  point  being  explained,  I  mentioned  the  extraordinary 
sight  that  had  presented  itself  in  the  cave  to  which  he  had 
commended  my  s''imbers.  He  had  never  heard  of  its  existence 
before ;  and,  upon  examining  the  cave  together,  we  saw  reason 
to  believe  that  it  had  been  anciently  filled  with  human  bodies. 

On  returning  to  the  lodge,  I  experienced  a  cordial  reception 
from  the  family,  which  consisted  of  the  wife  of  my  friend,  his 
two  sons,  of  whom  the  eldest  was  married,  and  whose  w^ife, 
and  a  daughter  of  thirteen  years  of  age,  completed  the  list» 

Wawatam  related  to  the  other  Indians  the  adventure  of  the 
bones.  All  of  them  expressed  surprise  at  hearing  it,  and  de- 
clared that  they  had  never  been  aware  of  the  contents  of  this 
cave  before.  After  visiting  it,  which  they  immediately  did, 
almost  every  one  offered  a  different  opinion  as  to  its  history. 

Some  advanced,  that  at  a  period  when  the  waters  overflowed 
the  land,  (an  event  which  makes  a  distinguished  figure  in  the 
history  of  their  world,)  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  had  fled 
into  the  cave,  and  been  there  drowned ;  others,  that  those  same 
inhabitants,  when  the  Hurons  made  war  upon  them,  (as  tradi- 
tion says  they  did,)  hid  themselves  in  the  cave,  and  being 
discovered,  were  there  massacred.  For  myself,  I  am  disposed 
to  believe  that  this  cave  was  an  ancient  receptacle  of  the  bones 
of  prisoners,  sacrificed  and  devoured  at  war-feasts.  I  have 
always  observed  that  the  Indians  pay  particular  attention  to 
the  bones  of  sacrifices,  preserving  them  unbroken,  and  deposit- 
ing them  in  some  place  kept  exclusively  for  that  purpose. 

A  few  days  after  the  occurrence  of  the  incidents  recc  ded 
above,  Menehwehna,  whom  I  now  found  to  be  the  great  chief 
of  the  village  of  Michiliniackinac,  came  to  the  lodge  of  my 
friend  ;  and  when  the  usual  ceremony  of  smoking  was  finish- 
ed, he  observed  that  Indians  were  now  daily  arriving  from 
Detroit,  some  of  whom  had  lost  relations  or  friends  in  the  war, 
and  who  would  certainly  retaliate  on  any  Englishman  they 
found ;  upon  which  account,  his  errand  was  to  advise  that  I 
should  be  dressed  like  an  Indian,  an  expedient  whence  I  migh* 
hope  to  escapeall  future  insult. 


:#' 


•W% 


#*■ 


¥: 

4-^- 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


305 


:  ded 

cliief 

)f  my 

nish- 

from 

war, 

they 

[that  I 

Imigh* 


I  could  not  but  consent  to  the  proposal,  and  the  chief  was  so 
kind  as  to  assist  my  friend  and  his  family  in  effecting  that  very 
day  the  desired  metamorphosis.  My  hair  was  cut  off,  and  my 
head  shaved,  with  the  exception  oi  a  spot  on  the  crown,  of 
about  twice  the  diameter  of  a  crown-piece.  My  face  was 
painted  with  three  or  four  different  colors ;  some  parts  of  it 
red,  and  others  black.  A  shirt  was  provided  for  me,  painted 
with  vermilion,  mixed  with  grease.  A  large  collar  of  wampum 
was  put  round  my  neck,  and  another  suspended  on  my  breast. 
Both  my  arms  were  decorated  with  large  bands  of  silver  above 
the  elbow,  besides  several  smaller  ones  on  the  wrists ;  and  my 
legs  were  covered  with  mitoses,  a  kind  of  hose,  made,  as  is  the 
favorite  fashion,  of  scarlet  cloth.  Over  all,  I  v*as  to  wear  a 
scarlet  blanket  or  mantle,  and  on  my  head  a  large  bunch  of 
feathers.  I  parted,  not  without  some  regret,  with  the  long  hair 
which  was  natural  to  it,  and  which  I  fancied  to  be  ornamental ; 
but  the  ladies  of  the  family,  and  of  the  village  in  general,  ap- 
peared to  think  my  person  improved,  and  now  condescended  to 
call  me  handsome,  even  among  Indians. 

Protected,  in  a  great  measure,  by  this  disguise,  I  felt  myself 
more  at  liberty  than  before ;  and  the  season  being  arrived  in 
which  my  clerks,  from  the  interior,  were  to  be  expected,  and 
some  part  of  my  property,  as  I  had  a  right  to  hope,  recovered, 
I  begged  the  favor  of  Wawatam  that  he  would  enable  me  to 
pay  a  short  visit  to  Michilimackinac.  He  did  not  fail  to  com- 
ply, and  I  succeeded  in  finding  my  clerks  j  but,  either  through 
the  disturbed  state  of  the  country,  as  they  represented  to  be 
the  case,  or  through  their  misconduct,  as  I  had  reason  to  think, 
I  obtained  nothing ;  and  nothing,  or  almost  nothing,  I  now 
began  to  think  would  be  all  that  I  should  need  during  the  rest 
of  my  life.  To  fish  and  to  hunt,  to  collect  a  few  skins,  and 
exchange  them  for  necessaries,  was  all  that  I  seemed  destined 
to  do,  and  to  acquire,  for  the  future. 

I  returned  to  the  Indian  village,  where  at  this  time  much 
scarcity  of  food  prevailed.  We  were  often  for  twenty-four 
hours  without  eating;  and  when  in  the  morning  we  had  no 
victuals  for  the  day  before  us,  the  custom  was  to  black  our 
faces  with  grease  and  charcoal,  and  exhibit,  through  resigna- 
^  tion,  a  temper  as  cheerful  as.  if  in  the  midst  of  plenty. 

A  repetition  of  the  evil,  however,  soon  induced  us  to  leave 
the  island  in  search  of  food ;  and  accordingly  Ave  departed  for 
the  Bay  of  Boutchitaouy,  distant  eight  leagues,  and  where 
we  found  plenty  of  wild-fowl  and  fish. 

While  in  the  bay,  my  guardian's  daughter-in-law  was  taken 
in  labor  of  her  first  child.  She  was  immediately  removed  out 
of  the  common  lodge ;  and  a  small  one,  for  her  separate  accom- 
26* 


111 


•  ( 


ifi 


«*#! 


■'■    »• 


>'*f^,  ^W 


'.•'-■*t' 


i ' 


906 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITy. 


modation,  was  begun  and  finished  by  the  women  in  less  than 
half  an  hour. 

The  next  morning  we  heard  that  she  was  very  ill,  and  the 
family  began  to  be  much  alarmed  on  her  account ;  the  more 
so,  no  doubt,  because  cases  of  difficult  labor  are  very  rare 
among  Indian  women.  In  this  distress.  Wawatam  requested 
me  to  accompany  him  into  the  wood^ ;  and  on  our  way  in- 
formed me  that  if  he  could  find  a  snake,  he  should  soon  secure 
relief  to  his  daughter-in>law. 

On  reaching  some  wet  ground,  we  speedily  obtained  the 
object  of  our  search,  in  a  small  snake,  of  the  kind  called  the 
garter-snake.  Wawatam  seized  it  by  the  neck,  and,  holding 
it  fast,  while  it  coiled  itself  round  his  arm,  he  cut  off  its  head, 
catching  the  blood  in  a  cup  that  he  had  brought  with  him. 
This  done,  he  threw  away  the  snake,  and  carried  home  the 
blood,  which  he  mixed  with  a  quantity  ot  water.  Of  this 
mixture  he  administered  first  one  table-spoonful,  and  shortly 
after  a  second.  Within  an  hour  the  patient  was  safely  deli- 
vered of  a  fine  child ;  and  Wawatam  subsequently  declared 
that  the  renfiedy,  to  which  he  had  resorted,  was  one  that  never 
failed^ 

On  the  next  day,  we  lefl  the  Bay  of  Boutchitaouy ;  and  the 
young  mother,  in  high  spirits,  assisted  in  loading  the  canoe, 
barefopted,  and  knee-deep  in  the  water. 

The  medical  information,  the  diseases  and  the  remedies  of 

the  Indians,  often  engaged  my  curiosity  during  the  period 

through  which  I  was  familiar  with  these  nations ;  and  I  shall 

lake  this  occasion  to  introduce  a  few  particulars  connected 

^  >     with  their  history. 

The  Indians  are  in  general  free  from  disorders;  and  an 
instance  of  their  being  subject  to  dropsy,  gout,  or  stone,  never 
came  within  my  knowledge.  Inflammations  of  the  lungs  are 
among  their  most  ordinary  complaints,  and  rheumatism  still 
more  so,  especially  with  the  aged.  Their  mode  of  life,  in 
which  they  are  so  much  exposed  to  the  wet  and  cold,  sleeping 
on  the  ground,  and  inhaling  the  night  air,  sufficiently  accounts 
for  their  liability  to  these  diseases.  The  remedies  on  which 
they  most  rely  are  emetics,  cathartics,  and  the  lancet;  but 
especially  the  last.  Bleeding  is  so  favorite  an  operation  among 
the  women  that  they  never  lose  an  occasion  of  enjoying  it, 
i  .  whether  sick  or  well.  I  have  sometimes  bled  a  dozen  women 
ui^a  morning  AS  they  oat  in  a  row,  along  a  fallen  tree,  begin- 
'::^  ning  with  the  first,  opening  the  vein,  then  proceeding  to  the 
-  second,  and  so  on,  having  three  or  four  individuals  bleeding  at 
the  same  time. 


In  most  villages,  and  particularly  in  those  of  the  Ghippe- 


a 


m' 


-•^# 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


307 


than 

d  the 
more 
rare 
ested 
ly  in- 
ecure 

d  the 
jd  the 
)lding 
head, 
L  him. 
le  the 
If  this 
hortly 
y  deli- 
sclared 
;  never 

nd  the 
canoe, 

dies  of 
period 
I  shall 

kneeled 


Ihippe- 


ways,  this  service  was  required  of  me ;  and  no  persu&sion  of 
mine  could  ever  induce  a  woman  to  dispense  with  it. 

In  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  among  all  the  natidns  that  I 
have  seen,  particular  individuals  arrogate  to  themselves  the 
art  of  healing,  hut  principally  by  means  of  pretended  sorcery ; 
and  operations  of  this  sort  are  always  paid  for  by  a  present 
made  before  they  are  begun.  Indeed,  whatever,  as  an  impostor, 
may  be  the  deme/its  of  the  operator,  his  reward  may  generally 
be  said  to  be  fairly  earned  by  dint  of  corporal  labor. 

I  was  once  present  at  a  performance  of  this  kind,  in  which 
the  patient  was  a  female  child  of  about  twelve  years  of  age. 
Several  of  the  elder  chiefs  were  invited  to  the  scene ;  and  the 
same  compliment  was  paid  to  myself,  on  account  of  the  medi- 
cal skill  for  which  it  was  pleased  to  give  me  credit. 

The  physician  (so  to  call  him)  seated  himself  on  the  ground ; 
and  before  him,  on  a  new  stroud  blanket,  was  placed  a  basin 
of  water,  in  which  were  three  bones,  the  larger  ones,  as  it 
appeared  to  me,  of  a  swan's  wing.  In  his  hand  he  had  his 
shishiquoi,  or  rattle,  with  which  he  beat  time  to  his  medidTie' 
song.  The  sick  child  lay  on  a  blanket,  near  tlfe  physician. 
She  appeared  to  have  much  fever,  and  a  severe  oppression  of 
the  lungs,  breathing  with  difficulty,  and  betraying  symptoms 
of  the  last  stage  of  consumption. 

After  singing  for  some  time,  the  physician  took  one  of  the 
bones  out  of  the  basin :  the  bone  was  hollow ;  and  one  end 
being  applied  to  the  breast  of  the  patient,  he  put  the  other  into 
his  mouth,  in  order  to  remove  the  disorder  by  suction.  Having 
persevered  in  this  as  long  as  he  thought  proner,  he  suddenly 
seemed  to  force  the  bone  into  his  mouth,  and  swallow  it.  He 
now  acted  the  part  of  one  suffering  severe  pain ;  but,  presently, 
finding  relief,  he  made  a  long  speech,  and  after  this  returned 
to  singing,  and  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  rattle.  With  the 
lattei:,  during  his  song,  he  struck  his  head,  breast,  sides,  and 
back  j  at  the  same  time  straining,  as  if  to  vomit  forth  the  bone. 

Relinquishing  this  attempt,  he  applied  himself  to  suction  a 
second  time,  and  with  the  second  of  the  three  bones ;  and  this 
also  he  soon  seemed  to  swallow. 

Upon  its  disappearance,  he  began  to  distort  himself  in  the 
most  frightful  manner,  using  every  gesture  which  could  convey 
the  idea  of  pain  ;  at  length  he  succeeded,  or  pretended  to  suc- 
ceed, in  throwing  up  one  of  the  bones.  This  was  handed 
about  to  the  spectators,  and  strictly  examined;  but  nothing 
remarkable  could  be  discovered.  Upon  this,. he  went  back  to 
his  song  and  rattle ;  and  after  some  time  threw  up  the  second 
of  the  two  bones.  In  the  groove  of  this,  the  physician,  upon 
examination,  found,  and  displayed  to  all  present,  a  small  white 


I  ! 


^.^re^ 


■^,\ 


> 


1» 


%'■■■ 


♦  * 


808 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


'  •*. 


substance,  resembling  a  piece  of  the  quill  of  a  feather,  It  was 
passed  round  the  company  from  one  to  the  other ;  and  declared, 
by  the  physician,  to  be  the  thing  causing  the  disorder  of  his 
patient. 

The  multitude  believe  that  these  physicians,  whom  the 
French  call  jongleurs,  or  jugglers,  can  inflict  as  well  as  remove 
disorders.  They  believe  that  by  drawing  the  figure  of  any 
person  in  sand  or  ashes,  or  on  clay,  or  by  considering  any 
object  as  the  figure  of  a  person,  and  then  pricking  it  with  a 
sharp  stick,  or  other  substance,  or  doing,  in  any  other  manner, 
that  which  done  to  a  living  body  would  cause  pain  or  injury, 
the  individual  represented,  or  supposed  to  be  represented,  will 
suflfer  accordingly.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mischief  being 
done,  another  physician,  of  equal  pretensions,  can  by  suction 
remove  it.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  operations  which  I 
have  described  were  not  successful  in  the  instance  referred  to ; 
for,  on  the  day  after  they  had  taken  place,  the  girl  died. 

With  regard  to  flesh-wounds,  the  Indians  certainly  efTect 
astonishing  cures.  Here,  as  above,  much  that  is  fantastic 
occurs;  but  the  success  of  their  practice  evinces  something 
solid. 

At  the  Sault  de  Sainte-Marie  I  knew  a  man  who,  in  the 
result  of  a  quarrel,  received  the  stroke  of  an  axe  in  his  side. 
The  blow  was  so  violent,  and  the  axe  driven  so  deep,  that  the 
wretch  who  held  it  could  not  withdraw  it,  but  left  it  in  the 
wound,  and  fled.  Shortly  after,  the  man  was  found,  and 
brought  into  the  fort,  where  several  other  Indians  came  to  his 
assistance.  Aiiiong  these,  one,  who  was  a  physician,  imme- 
diately withdrew,  in  order  to  fetch  his  penegusan,  or  medicine- 
bag,  with  which  he  soon  returned.  The  eyes  of  the  sufferer 
were  fixed,  his  teeth  closed,  and  his  case  apparently  desperate. 
'  The  physician  took  from  his  bag  a  small  portion  of  a  very 
white  substance,  resembling  that  of  a  bone ;  this  he  scraped 
into  a  little  water,  and  forcing  open  the  jaws  of  the  patient 
with  a  stick,  he  poured  the  mixture  down  his  throat.  What 
followed  was,  that  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  the  wounded 
man  moved  his  eyes ;  and  beginning  to  vomit,  threw  up  a 
small  lump  of  clotted  blood. 

The  physician  now,  and  not  before,  examined  the  wound, 
from  which  1  could  see  the  fereath  escape,  and  from  which  a 
part  of  the  omentum  depended.  This  the  physician  did  not 
set  about  to  restore  to  its  place,  .but,  cutting  it  away,  minced 
it  into  small  pieces,  and  made  his  patient' swallow  it. 

The  man  wa§  then  carried  to  his  lodge,  where  I  visited  him 
daily.  By  the  sixth  day  he  was  able  to  walk  about;  and 
within  a  month  he  grew  quite  well,  except  that  he  was  troubled 


%:■ 


m   .  ♦'*■■  ♦  f. 


^  "'" 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


309 


up  a 

70und, 

l-hich  a 

lid  not 

linced 

id  him 
and 
doubled 


with  a  cough.     Twenty  years  after  his  misfortune  he  was  still 
alive. 

Another  man,  being  on  his  wintering-ground,  and  from 
home,  hunting  beaver,  was  crossing  a  lake,  covered  with 
smooth  ice,  with  two  beavers  on  his  back,  when  his  foot  slipped, 
and  he  fell.  At  his  side,  in  his  belt,  was  his  axe,  the  blade'  of 
which  came  upon  the  joint  of  his  wrist ;  and,  the  weight  of 
his  body  coming  upon  the  blade,  his  hand  was  completely 
separated  from  his  arm,  with  the  exception  of  a  small  piece  of 
the  skin.  He  had  to  walk  three  miles  to  his  lodge,  which  was 
thus  far  away.  The  skin,  which  alone  retained  his  hand  to 
his  arm,  he  cut  through,  with  the  same  axe  vhich  had  done 
the  rest ;  and  fortunately  having  on  a  shirt,  he  took  it  off,  tore 
it  up,  and  made  a  strong  ligature  above  the  wrist,  so  as  in 
some  measure  to  avoid  the  loss  of  blood.  On  reaching  his 
lodge,  he  cured  the  wound  himself,  by  the  mere  use  of  simples. 
I  was  a  witness  to  its  perfect  healing. 

I  have  said  that  these  physicians,  jugglers,  or  practitioners 
of  pretended  sorcery,  are  supposed  to  be  capable  of  inflicting 
diseases ;  and  I  may  add,  that  they  are  sometimes  themselves 
sufierers  on  this  account.  In  one  instance  I  saw  one  of  them 
killed,  by  a  man  who  charged  him  with  having  brought  his 
brother  to  death  by  malefic  arts.  The  accuser,  in  his  rage, 
thrust  his  knife  into  the  belly  of  the  accused,  and  ripped  it 
open.  The  latter  caught  his  bowels  in  his  arms,  and  thus 
walked  toward  his  lodge,  gathering  them  up,  from  time  to 
time,  as  they  escaped  his  hold.  His  lodge  was  at  no  con- 
siderable distance,  and  he  reached  it  alive,  and  died  in  it. 

Our  next  encampment  was  on  the  island  of  Saint-Martin, 
off  Cape  Saint-Ignace,  so  called  from  the  Jesuit  mission  of 
Saint  Ignatius  to  the  Hurons,  formerly  established  there.  Our 
object  was  to  fish  for  sturgeon,  which  we  did  witli^  great  suc- 
cess ;  and  here,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  plentiful  arid  excellent 
supply  of  food,  we  remained  until  the  twentieth  day  Qf  Au- 
gust. At  this  time,  the  autumn  being  at  hand,  and  a  sure 
prospect  of  increased  security  from  hostile  Indians  afibrded, 
Wawatam  proposed  going  to  his  intended  wintering-ground. 
The  removal  was  a  subject  of  the  greatest  joy  to  myself,  on 
account  of  the  frequent  insults,  to  which  I  had  still  to  submit, 
from  the  Indians  of  our  band  or  village,  and  to  escape  from 
which  I  would  freely  have  gone  almost  anywhere.  At  our 
wintering-ground  we  were  to  bR> alone ;  for  the  Indian  families, 
in  the  countries  of  which  I  write,  separate  in  the  winter 
season,  for  the  convenience  as  well  of  subsistence  as  of  the 
chase,  and  re-associate  in  the  spring  and  summer. 

In  preparation,  our  first  business  was  to  sail  for  ]|||[ichili- 


-■^« 


^^ 


' 


1*. 


i,^ 


^- 


810 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


mackinac,  where,  being  arrived,  we  procured  from  a  Canadian 
trader,  on  credit,  some  trifling  articles,  together  with  ammuni- 
tion, and  two  bushels  of  maize.  This  done,  we  steered  di- 
rectly for  lake  Michigan.  At  L'Arbre  Croche  we  stopped  one 
day  on  a  visit  to  the  Ottawas,  where  all  the  people,  and  par- 
ticularly Okinochumaki,  the  chief,  'he  same  who  took  me  from 
the  Chippeways,  behaved  with  great  civility  and  kindness. 
The  chief  presented  me  with  a  bag  of  maize.  It  is  the 
O  tawas,  it  will  be  remembered,  who  raise  this  grain  for  the 
m&rket  of  Michilimackinac. 

Leaving  L'Arbre  Croche,  we  proceeded  direct  to  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Aux  Sables,  on  the  south  side  of  the  lake,  and 
dif  tant  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  fort  Michili- 
ma'-kinac.  On  our  voyage,  we  passed  several  deep  bays  and 
rivers,  and  I  found  the  banks  of  the  lake  to  consist  in  mere 
sandi',  without  any  appearance  of  verdure ;  the  sand  drifting 
from  one  hill  to  another,  like  snow  in  winter.  Hence,  all  the 
rivers,  ;vhich  here  entered  the  lake,  are  as  much  entitled  to 
the  epithet  of  sandy  as  that  io  which  we  were  bound.  They 
are  also  distinguished  by  another  particularity,  always  observa- 
ble in  similar  situations.  The  current  of  the  stream  being 
met,  when  the  wind  is  contrary,  by  the  waves  of  the  lake,  it  is 
driven  back,  and  the  sands  of  the  shore  are  at  the  same  time 
washed  into  its  mouth.  In  consequence,  the  river  is  able  to 
force  a  passage  into  the  lake,  broad  only  in  proportion  to  its 
utrrtost  strength ;  while  it  hollows  for'  itself,  behind  the  sand- 
banks, a  basin  of  one,  two,  or  three  miles  across.  In  these 
rivers  we  killed  many  wild-fowl  and  beaver. 

To  kill  beaver,  we  used  to  go  several  miles  up  the  rivers, 
before  the  approach  of  night,  and  after Ihe  dusk  came  on  suflfer 
the  canoe  to  drift  gently  down  thecurrent,  without  noise.  The 
beaver  in  this  part  of  the  evening  come  abroad  to  procure 
food,  or  materials  for  repairing  their  habitations;  and  as  they 
are  not  alarmed  by  the  canoe,  they  often  pass  it  within  gun- 
shot. 

While  we  thus  hunted  along  our  way,  I  enjoyed  a  personal 
freedom  of  which  I  had  been  long  deprived,  and  became  as 
expert  in  the  Indian  pursuits  as  the  Indians  themselves. 

On  entering  the  river  Aux  Sables,  Wawatam  took  a  dog, 
tied  its  feet  together,  and  threw  it  into  the  stream,  uttering, 
it  the  same  time,  a  long  prayer,  which  he  addressed  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  supplicating  his  blessing  on  the  chase,  and  his 
aid  in  the  support  of  the  family,  through  the  dangersj>f  aiong 
winter.  Our  lodge  was  fifteen  miles  above  the  mouth"  of  the 
stream.     The  principal  animals  which  the  country  afforded 


*j» 


Mm 


"■'* 


W^ 


*** 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


an 


inadian 
mmuni- 
ered  di- 
ped  one 
ind  par- 
T»e  from 
indness. 
L  is  the 
1  for  the 

e  mouth 
oke,  and 
Michili- 
)ays  and 
in  mere 
drifting 
e,  all  the 
ntitled  to 
L     They 
I  observa- 
im  being 
lake,  it  is 
ame  time 
IS  able  to 
on  to  its 
le  sand- 
n  these 

le  rivers, 
on  suffer 
lise.  The 
procure 
as  they 
hin  gun- 
personal 
ecame  as 
s. 

a  dog, 
uttering, 
to  the 
and  his 
j»f  along 
h'  of  the 
afforded 


id 


were  the  stag  or  red  deer,  the  common  American .  deer,  ti 
bear,  raccoon,  beaver  and  marten. 

The  beaver  feeds  in  preference  on  young  wood  of  the  birch, 
aspen  and  poplar  tree,  {populus  nigra,  called  by  the  Canadians 
Hard,)  but  in  defect  of  these  on  any  other  tree,  those  of  the 

Eine  and  fir  kinds  excepted.  These  latter  it  employs  only  for 
uilding  its  dams  and  houses.  In  wide  meadows,  where  no 
wood  is  to  be  found,  it  resorts,  for  all  its  purposes,  to  the  roots 
of  the  rush  and  water  lily.  It  consumes  great  quantities  of 
food,  whether  of  roots  or  wood  ;  and  hence  often  reduces 
itself  to  the  necessity  of  removing  into  a  new  quarter.  Its 
house  has  an  arched  dome-like  roof,  of  an  elliptical  figure,  and 
rises  from  three  to  four  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  .vater. 
It  is  always  entirely  surrounded  by  water;  but,  in  the  banks 
adjacent,  the  animal  provides  holes  or  washes,  of  which  the 
entrance  is  below  the  surface,  and  to  which  it  retreats  on  the 
first  alarm. 

The  female  beaver  usually  produces  two  young  at  a  time, 
but  not  unfrequently  more.  During  the  first  year  the  young 
remain  with  their  parents.  In  the  second  they  occupy  an 
adjoining  apartment,  and  assist  in  building,  and  in  procuring 
food.  At  two  years  old,  they  part,  and  build  houses  of  their 
own  ;  but  often  rove  about  for  a  considerable  time,  before  they 
fix  upon  a  spot.  There  are  beavers,  called  by  the  Indians  old 
btichelors,  who  live  by  themselves,  build  no  houses,  and  work 
at  no  dams,  but  shelter  themselves  in  holes.  The  usual 
method  of  taking  these  is  by  traps,  formed  of  iron,  or  logs,  and 
baited  with  branches  of  poplar. 

According  to  the  Indians,  the  beaver  is  much  given  to  jealousy. 
If  a  strange  male  approaches  the  cabin,  a  battle  immediately 
eftsues.  Of  this  the  female  remains  an  unconcerned  spectator, 
careless  to  which  party  the  law  of  conquest  may  assign  her. 
Among  the  beaver  which  we  killed,  those  who  were  with  me 
pretended  to  show  demonstrations  of  this  fact ;  some  of  the 
skins  of  the  males,  and  almost  all  of  the  older  ones,  bearing 
marks  of  violence,  while  none  were  ever  to  be  seen  on  the 
skins  of  the  females. 

The  Indians  add,  that  the  male  is  as  constant  as  he  is  jeal- 
ous, never  attaching  himself  to  more  than  one  female ;  while 
the  female,  on  her  side,  is  always  fond  of  strangers. 

The  most  common  way  of  taking  the  beaver  is  that  o£ 
breaking  up  its  house,  which  is  done  v/ith  tronching-tools,  dur- 
ing ihe  winter,  when  the  ice  is  strong  enough  to  allow  of 
approacli^g  them ;  and  when,  also,  the  fur  is  in  its  most  valu- 
able state. 

Breaking  up  the  house,  however,  is  only  a  preparatory  step. 


>* 


^. 


312 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


wM- 


^.*' 

m. 


A- 


If 


During  this  operation,  the  family  make  their  escape  to  one  or 
more  of  their  washes.  These  are  to  be  discovered  by  striking 
the  ice  along  the  bank,  and  where  the  holes  are  a  hollow 
sound  is  returned.  After  discovering  and  searching  many  of 
these  in  vain,  we  often  found  the  whole  family  together,  in  the 
same  wash.  I  was  taught  occasionally  to  distinguish  a  full 
wash  from  an  empty  one,  by  the  motion  of  the  water  above  its 
entrance,  occasioned  by  the  breathing  of  the  animals  concealed 
in  it.  From  the  washes  they  must  be  taken  out  with  the 
hands ;  and  in  doing  this,  the  hunter  sometimes  receives 
severe  wounds  from  their  teeth.  While  a  hunter,  I  thought, 
with  the  Indians,  that  the  beaver  flesh  was  very  good ;  but 
after  that  of  the  ox  was  again  within  my  reach,  I  could  not 
reli<«h  it.     The  tail  is  accounted  a  luxurious  morsel. 

Beavers,  say  the  Indians,  were  formerly  a  people  endowed 
with  speech,  not  less  than  with  the  other  noble  faculties  *hey 

i>ossess ;  but  the  Oreat  Spirit  has  taken  this  away  from  them, 
est  they  should  grow  superior  in  understanding  to  mankind. 

The  raccoon  was  another  object  of  our  chase.  It  was  my 
practice  to  go  out  in  the  evening,  with  dogs,  accompanied  by 
the  youngest  son  of  my  guardian,  to  hunt  this  animal.  The 
raccoon  never  leaves  its  hiding-place  till  after  sunset. 

As  soon,  as  a  dog  falls  on  a  fresh  track  of  the  raccoon,  he 
gives  notice  by  a  cry,  and  immediately  puriies.  His  barking 
enables  the  hunter  to  follow.  The  raccouu,  which  travels 
slowly,  and  is  soon  overtaken,  makes  for  a  tree,  on  which  he 
remains  till  shot. 

After  the  falling  of  the  snow,  nothing  more  is  necessary,  for 
taking  the  raccoon,  thanr  to  follow  the  track  of  his  feet.  In 
this  season,  he  seldom  leaves  his  habitation ;  and  he  never 
lays  up  any  food.  I  have  found  six  at  a  time,  in  the  hollow 
of  one  tree,  lying  upon  each  other,  and  nearly  in  a  torpid  state. 
In  more  than  one  instance,  I  have  ascertained  that  they  have 
lived  six  weeks  without  food.  The  mouse  is  their  pnncipal 
prey. 

]Raccoon  hunting  was  my  more  particular  and  daily  employ. 
I  usually  went  out  at  the  first  dawn  of  day,  and  seldom  returned 
till  sunset,  or  till  I  had  laden  myself  with  as  many  animals  as 
I  could  carry.  By  degrees  I  became  familiarized  with  this 
kind  of  life  ;  and  had  it  not  been'^for  the  idea,  of  which  I  could 
not  divest  my  mind,  that  I  was  living  among  savages,  and  for 
the  whispers  of  a  lingering  hope,  that  I  should  one  day  be 
released  from  it — or  if  I  could  have  forgotten  that  I  had  «ver 
been  otherwise  than  as  I  then  was — \  could  have  enjoyed  as 
much  happiness  in  this  as  in  any  o^her  situation. 

One.  evening,  on  my  return  froni  hunting,  I  found  the  fire 


"-".4 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


313 


ry,  foT 
It.  In 
never 
oUow 
state, 
have 
ncipal 

iploy. 
[turned 
lals  as 
th  this 
could 
id  for 
(day  be 
\d  ever 
lyed  as 

lefire 


put  out,  and  the  opening  in  the  top  of  the  lodge  covered  over 
with  skins ;  by  this  means  excluding,  as  much  as  possible, 
external  light.  I  further  observed  that  the  ashes  were  remov-  ^ 
ed  from  the  fire-place,  and  that  dry  sand  was  spread  where 
they  had  been.  Soon  after,  a  fire  was  made  withoutside  the 
cabm,  in  the  open  air,  and  a  kettle  hung  over  it  to  boil. 

I  now  supposed  that  a  feast  was  in  prepurution.  I  supposed 
80  only,  for  it  would  have  been  indecorous  to  inquire  into 
the  meaning  of  what  I  saw.  No  person,  among  the  Indians 
themselves,  would  use  this  freedom.  Good  breeding  requires 
that  the  spectator  should  patiently  wait  the  result. 

As  soon  as  the  darkness  of  night  had  arrived,  the  family, 
including  myself,  were  invited  into  the  lodge.  I  was  now 
requested  not  to  speak,  as  a  feast  was  about  to  be  given  to  the 
dead,  whose  spirits  delight  in  uninterrupted  silence. 

As  we  entered,  each  was  presented  with  his  wooden  dish 
and  spoon,  after  receiving  which  we  seated  ourselves.  The 
door  was  next  shut,  and  we  remained  in  perfect  darkness. 

The  master  of  the  family  was  the  master  of  the  feast.  Still 
in  the  dark,  he  asked  every  one,  by  turn,  for  his  dish,  and  put 
into  each  two  boiled  ears  of  maize.  The  whole  being  served, 
he  began  to  speak.  In  his  discourse,  which  lasted  half  an 
hour,  he  called  upon  the  manes  of  his  deceased  relations  and 
friends,  beseeching  them  to  be  present,  to  assist  him  in  the 
chase,  and  to  partake  of  the  food  which  he  had  prepared  for 
them.  When  he  had  ended,  we  proceeded  to  eat  our  maize, 
which  we  did  without  other  noise  than  what  was  occasioned 
by  our  teeth.  The  maize  was  not  half  boiled,  and  it  took  me 
an  hour  to  consume  my  share.  I  w^s  requested  not  to  break 
the  spikes,  [cob,]  as  this  would  be  displeasing  to  the  departed 
spirits  of  their  friends. 

When  all  was  eaten,  Wawatam  made  another  speech,  with 
which  the  ceremony  ended.  A  new  fire  was  kindled,  with 
fresh  sparks,  from  flint  and  steel ;  and  the  pipes  being  smoked, 
the  spikes  were  carefully  buried,  in  a  hole  made  in  the  ground 
for  'that  purpose,  within  the  lodge.  This  done,  the  whole 
family  began  a  dance,  Wawatam  singing,  and  beating  a  drum. 
The  dance  continued  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  to  the 
great  pleasure  of  the  lodge.  The  night  of  the  feast  was  that 
of  the  first  day  of  November. 

On  the  twentieth  of  December,  we  took  an  account  of  the 
produce  of  our  hunt,  and  found  that  we  had  a  hundred  beaver 
skins,  q^  many  raccoons,  and  a  large  quantity  of  dried  veni*    *' 
son ;  all  which  was  secured  from  the  wolves,  by  being  placed 
upon  a  scaffold.  ^^ 

A  hunting  excursion,  into  the  interior  of  the  cotintry,  Waft 
27 


V- 


■*"*•;■■ 


fei,.i. 


314 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


resolved  on  ;  and  early  the  next  morning  the  bundles  were 
made  up  by  the  women  for  each  person  to  carry.  I  remarked 
that  the  bundle  given  to  me  was  the  lightest,  and  those  carried 
by  the  women  the  largest  and  heaviest  of  the  whole. 

On  the  first  day  of  our  march,  v/e  advanced  about  twenty 
miles,  and  then  encamped.  Being  somewhat  fatigued,  I  could 
not  hunt ;  but  Wawatam  killed  a  stag,  not  far  from  our  en- 
campment. The  next  morning  we  moved  our  lodge  to  the 
carcass.  At  this  station  we  remained  two  days,  employed  in 
drying  the  meat.  The  method  was  to  cut  it  into  slices,  of  the 
thickness  of  a  steak,  and  then  hang  it  over  the  fire  in  the 
smoke.  On  the  third  day  we  removed,  and  marched  till  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

While  the  women  were  busy  in  erecting  and  preparing  the 
lodges,  I  took  my  gun  and  strolled  away,  telling  Wawatam 
that  I  intended  to  look  out  for  some  fresh  meat  for  supper.  He 
answered,  that  he  would  do  the  same ;  and  on  this  we  both 
left  the  enci<\mpment,  in  diflferent  directions. 

The  sun  being  visible,  I  entertained  no  fear  of  losing  my 
way ;  but  in  following  several  tracks  of  animals,  in  moment- 
ary  expectation  of  falling  in  with  the  game,  I  proceeded  to  a 
considerable  distance,  and  it  was  not  till  near  sunset  that  I 
thought  of  returning.  The  sky,  too,  had  become  overcast,  and 
I  was  therefore  left  without  the  sun  for  my  guide.  In  this  situ- 
ation, I  walked  as  fast  as  I  could,  always  supposing  myself  to 
be  approaching  our  encampment,  till  at  length  it  became  so 
dark  that  I  ran  against  the  trees. 

I  became  convinced  that  I  was  lost ;  and  I  was  alarmed  by 
the  reflection  that  I  was  in  a  country  entirely  strange  to  me, 
and  in  danger  from  strange  Indians.  With  the  flint  of  my 
gun  I  made  a  fire,  and  then  laid  me  down  to  sleep.  In  the 
night,  it  rained  hard.  I  awoke  cold  and  wet ;  and  as  soon  as 
light  appeared,  I  recommenced  my  journey,  sometimes  walk- 
ing and  sometimes  running,  unknowing  where  to  go,  bewil- 
dered, and  lik2  a  madman. 

Toward  evening,  I  reached  the  btyrder  of  a  large  lake,  of 
which  I  could  scarcely  discern  the  opposite  shore.  I  had 
never  heard  of  a  lake  in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  there- 
fore felt  myself  removed  further  than  ever  from  the  object  of 
my  pursuit.  To  tread  back  my  steps  appeared  to  be  the  most 
likely  means  of  delivering  myself;  and  I  accordingly  deter- 
mined to  turn  my  face  directly  from  the  lake,  and  keep  this 
#  direction  as  nearly  as  I  could. 

A  heavy  snow  began  to  descend,  and  night  soon  afterward 

*      came  on.     On  this,  I  stopped  and  made  a  fire ;  and  stripping 

a  tree  of  its  sheet  of  bark,  lay  down  under  it  to  shelter  me  from 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


316 


soon  as 
walk- 
be  wil- 

ake,  of 
I  had 

there- 
iject  of 
e  most 

deter- 
•ep  this 

* 

^erward 
(ripping 
e  from 


the  snow.  All  night,  at  small  distances,  the  wolves  howled 
around,  and  to  me  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  my  misfor- 
tune. 

Amid  thoughts  the  most  distracted,  I  was  able  at  length  to 
fall  asleep  ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  I  awoke,  refreshed,  and 
wondering  at  the  terror  to  which  I  had  yielded  myself.  That 
I  could  really  have  wanted  the  means  of  recovering  my  way, 
appeared  to  me  almost  incredible,  and  the  recollection  of  it 
like  a  dream,  or  as  a  circumstance  which  must  have  proceeded 
from  the  loss  of  my  senses.  Had  this  not  happened,  I  could 
never,  as  I  now  thought,  have  suffered  so  long,  without  calling 
to  mind  the  lessons  which  I  had  received  from  my  Indian 
friend,  for  the  very  purpose  of  being  useful  to  me  in  difficul- 
ties of  this  kind.  These  were,  that,  generally  speaking,  the 
tops  of  pine  trees  lean  toward  the  rising  of  the  sun ;  that  moss 
grows  toward  the  roots  of  trees  on  the  side  which  faces  the 
north ;  and  that  the  limbs  of  trees  are  most  numerous,  and  larg- 
est, on  that  which  faces  the  south. 

Determined  to  direct  my  feet  by  these  marks,  and  persuaded 
that  I  should  thus,  sooner  or  later,  reach  lake  Michigan,  which 
I  reckoned  to  be  distant  about  sixty  miles,  I  began  my  march 
at  break  of  day.  I  had  not  taken,  nor  wished  to  take,  any 
nourishment  since  I  left  the  encampment ;  I  had  with  me  my 
gun  and  ammunition,  and  was  therefore  under  no  anxiety  in 
regard  to  food.     The  snow  lay  about  half  a  foot  in  depth. 

My  eyes  were  now  employed  upon  the  trees.  When  their 
tops  leaned  different  ways,  I  looked  to  the  moss,  or  to  the 
branches ;  and  by  connecting  one  with  another,  I  found  the 
means  of  travelling  v  ith  some  degree  of  confidence.  At  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  sun,  to  my  inexpressible  joy,  broke 
fro.n  the  clouds,  and  I  had  now  no  further  need  of  examining 
ihe  trees. 

In  going  down  the  side  of  a  lofty  hill,  I  saw  a  herd  of  red 
deer  approaching.  Desirous  of  killing  one  of  them  for  food, 
I  hid  myself  in  the  bushes,  and  on  a  large  one  coming  near, 
presented  my  piece,  which  missed  fire,  on  account  of  the  prim- 
ing having  been  wetted.  The  animals  walked  along,  without 
taking  the  least  alarm ;  and,  having  reloaded  my  gun,  I  fol- 
lowed them,  and  presented  a  second  time.  But  now  a  disaster 
of  the  heaviest  kind  had  befallen  me ;  for,  on  attempting  to 
fire,  I  found  that  I  had  lost  the  cock.  I  had  previously  lost 
the  screw  by  which  it  was  fastened  to  the  lock ;  and  to  prevent 
this  from  being  lost  also,  I  had  tied  it  in  its  place,  with  a  lea- 
ther string.  The  lock,  to  prevent  its  catching  in  the  boughs, 
I  had  carried  under  my  molton  coat. 

Of  all  the  sufferings  which  I  had  experienced,  this  seemed 


t 


"'*%;', 


310 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


to  me  the  most  severe.  I  was  in  a  strange  country,  and  knew 
not  how  far  I  had  to  go.  I  had  been  three  days  without  food; 
I  was  now  without  the  means  of  procuring  myself  either  food 
or  fire.  Despair  had  almost  overpowered  me ;  but  I  soon  re- 
signed myself  into  the  hands  of  that  Providence,  whose  arm 
had  so  often  saved  me,  and  returned  on  my  track,  in  search  of 
what  I  had  lost.  My  search  was  in  vain,  and  I  resumed  my 
course,  wet,  cold  and  hungry,  and  almost  without  clothing. 

The  sun  was  setting  fast,  when  I  descended  a  hill,  at  the 
bottom  of  which  was  a  small  lake,  entirely  frozen  over.  On 
drawing  near,  I  saw  a  beaver  lodge  in  the  middle,  offering 
some  faint  prospect  of  food ;  but  I  found  it  already  broken  up. 
While  I  looked  at  it,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  I  had 
seen  it  before ;  and  turning  my  eyes  round  the  place,  I  dis- 
covered a  small  tree  which  I  had  myself  cut  down,  in  the 
autumn,  when,  in  company  with  my  friends,  I  had  taken  the 
beaver.  I  was  no  longer  at  a  loss,  but  knew  both  the  distance 
and  the  route  to  the  encampment.  The  latter  was  only  to  fol- 
low the  course  of  a  small  stream  of  water,  which  ran  from  the 
encampment  to  the  lake  on  which  I  stood.  An  hour  before,  I 
had  thought  myself  the  most  miserable  of  men ;  and  now  I 
leaped  for  joy,  and  called  myself  the  happiest. 

The  whole  of  the  night,  and  through  all  the  succeeding  day, 
I  walked  up  the  rivulet,  and  at  sunset  reached  the  encampment, 
where  I  w  as  received  with  the  warmest  expressions  of  pleasure 
by  the  family,  by  whom  I  had  been  given  up  for  lost,  after  a 
long  and  vain  search  for  me  in  the  woods. 

Some  days  elapsed,  during  which  I  rested  myself,  and  re- 
cruited my  strength ;  after  this,  I  resumed  the  chase,  secure 
that,  as  the  snow  had  now  fallen,  I  could  always  return  by  the 
way  I  went. 

In  the  course  of  the  month  of  January,  I  happened  to  ob- 
serve that  the  trunk  of  a  very  large  pine  tree  was  much  torn 
by  the  claws  of  a  bear,  made  both  in  going  up  and  down.  On 
further  examination,  I  saw  that  there  was  a  large  opening  in 
the  upper  part,  near  which  the  smaller  branches  were  broken. 
From  these  marks,  and  from  the  additional  circumstance  that 
there  were  no  tracks  on  the  snow,  there  was  reason  to  believe 
that  a  bear  lay  concealed  in  the  tree. 

On  returning  to  the  lodge,  I  communicated  my  discovery ; 

and  it  was  agreed  that  all  the  family  should  go  together  in  the 

morning,  to  assist  in  cutting  down  the  tree,  the  girth  of  which 

**  was  not  less  than  three  fathom.     The  women  at  first  opposed 

^  the  undertaking,  because  our  axes,  being  only  of  a  pound  and 

'}  a  half  weight,  were  not  well  adapted  to  so  lieavy  a  labor ;  but 

die  hope  of  finding  a  large  bear,  and  obtaining  from  its  fat  a 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


317 


tovery ; 
in  the 
which 

bpposed 
id  and 

)r;  but 

Us  fat  a 


great  quantity  of  oil,  an  article  at  the  time  much  wanted,  at 
length  prevailed. 

Accordingly,  in  the  morning,  we  surrounded  the  tree,  both 
men  and  women,  as  many  at  a  time  as  could  conveniently  work 
at  it ;  and  here  we  toiled  like  beaver  till  the  sun  went  down. 
This  day's  work  carried  us  about  half  way  through  the  trunk ; 
and  the  next  morning  we  renewed  the  attack,  continuing  it  till 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  tree  fell  to  the 
ground.  For  a  few  minutes,  everything  remained  quiet,  and  I 
feared  that  all  our  expectations  were  disappointed ;  but  as  I 
advanced  to  the  opening,  there  came  out,  to  the  great  satisfac- 
tion of  all  our  party,  a  bear  of  extraordinary  size,  which,  before 
she  had  proceeded  many  yards,  I  shot. 

The  bear  being  dead,  all  my  assistants  approached,  and  all, 
but  more  particularly  my  old  mother,  (as  I  was  wont  to  call 
her,)  took  his  head  in  their  hands,  stroking  and  kissing  it  seve- 
ral times  ;  begging  a  thousand  pardons  for  taking  away  her 
life  ;  calling  her  their  relation  and  grandmother ;  and  request- 
ing her  not  to  lay  the  fault  upon  them,  since  it  was  truly  an 
Englishman  that  had  put  her  to  death. 

This  ceremony  was  not  of  long  duration ;  and  if  it  was  I 
that  killed  their  grandmother,  they  were  not  themselves  behind- 
hand in  what  remained  to  be  performed.  The  skin  being  taken 
off,  we  found  the  fat  in  several  places  six  inches  deep.  This, 
being  divided  into  two  parts,  loaded  two  persons  ;  and  the  flesh 
parts  were  as  much  as  four  persons  could  carry.  In  all,  the 
carcass  must  have  exceeded  five  hundred  weight. 

As  soon  as  we  reached  the  lodge,  the  bear's  head  was  adorn- 
ed with  all  the  trinkets  in  the  possession  of  the  family,  such 
as  silver  arm-bands  and  wrist-bands,  and  belts  of  wampum, 
and  then  laid  upon  a  scaffold,  set  up  for  its  reception,  within 
the  lodge.  Near  the  nose  was  placed  a  large  quantity  of  to- 
bacco. 

The  next  morning  no  sooner  appeared  than  preparations 
were  made  for  a  feast  to  the  manes.  The  lodge  was  cleaned 
and  swept ;  and  the  head  of  the  bear  lifted  up,  and  a  new  stroud 
blanket,  which  had  never  been  used  before,  spread  under  it. 
The  pipes  were  now  lit ;  and  Wawatam  blew  tobacco  smoke 
into  the  nostrils  of  the  bear,  telling  me  to  do  the  same,  and 
thus  appease  the  anger  of  the  bear,  on  account  of  my  having 
killed  her.  I  endeavored  to  persuade  my  benefactor  and 
friendly  adviser  that  she  no  longer  had  any  life,  and  assured 
him  that  I  was  under  no  apprehension  from  her  displeasure ; 
but  the  first  proposition  obtained  no  credit,  and  the  second  gave 
but  little  satisfaction. 

At  length,  the  feast  being  ready,  Wawatam  commenced  l|^ 


27* 


■;^M 


■-«*. 


*  -^A,,- . 


I 


318 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


'A 


speech,  resembling  in  many  things  his  address  to  the  manes 
of  his  relations  and  departed  companions ;  but  having  this 
peculiarity,  that  he  here  deplored  the  necessity  under  which 
men  labored  thus  to  destroy  their  friends.  He  represented, 
however,  that  the  misfortune  was  unavoidable,  since  without 
doing  so  they  could  by  no  means  subsist.  The  speech  ended, 
we  all  ate  heartily  of  the  bear's  flesh ;  and  even  the  head  itself, 
after  remaining  three  days  on  the  scaffold,  was  put  into  the 
kettle. 

It  is  only  the  female  bear  that  makes  her  winter  lodging  in 
the  upper  parts  of  trees,  a  practice  by  which  her  young  are 
secured  from  the  attacks  of  wolves  and  other  animals.  She 
brings  forth  in  the  winter  season ;  and  remains  in  her  lodge 
till  the  cubs  have  gained  some  strength. 

The  male  always  lodges  in  the  ground,  under  the  roots  of 
trees.  He  takes  to  this  habitation  as  soon  as  the  snow  falls, 
tind  remains  there  till  it  has  disappeared.  The  Indians  remark 
that  the  bear  comes  out  in  the  spring  with  the  same  fat  which 
he  carried  in  in  the  autumn,  but  after  exercise  of  only  a  fe\y 
days  becomes  lean.  Excepting  for  a  short  part  of  the  season, 
the  male  lives  constantly  alone. 

The  fat  of  our  bear  was  melted  down,  and  the  oil  filled  six 
porcupine  skins.  A  part  of  the  meat  was  cut  into  strips  and 
fire-dried,  after  which  it  was  put  into  the  vessels  containing  the 
oil,  where  it  remained  in  perfect  preservation  until  the  middle 
of  summer. 

February,  in  the  country  and  by  the  people  where  and  among 
whom  I  was,  is  called  ihe  Moon  of  Hard  or  Crusted  Snow ; 
for  now  the  snow  can  bear  a  man,  or  at  least  dogs,  in  pursuit 
of  animals  of  the  chase.  At  this  season,  the  stag  is  very  suc- 
cessfully hunted,  his  feet  breaking  through  at  every  step,  and 
the  crust  upon  the  snow  cutting  his  legs  with  its  sharp  edges 
to  the  very  bone.  He  is  consequently,  in  this  distress,  an  easy 
prey ;  and  it  frequently  happened  that  we  killed  twelve  in  the 
short  space  of  two  hours.  By  this  means  we  were  soon  put 
into  possession  of  four  thousand  weight  of  dried  venison,  which 
was  to  be  carried  on  our  backs,  along  with  all  the  rest  of  our 
wealth,  for  seventy  miles,  the  distance  of  our  encampment 
from  that  part  of  the  lake  shore  at  which  in  the  autumn  we 
left  our  canoes.  This  journey  it  was  our  next  business  to  per- 
form. 

Our  venison  and  furs  and  peltries  were  to  be  disposed  ■»f  at 
Michilimackinac,  and  it  was  now  the  season  for  carrying  H\evc\. 
to  market.  The  women  therefore  prepared  our  loads ;  and 
the  morning  of  departure  being  come,  we  set  off  at  daybreak, 
and  continued  our  march  till  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 


.■,d.y. 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITy. 


319 


ml 


^(  at 
Miem 

;  and 
Ibreak, 

rnoon. 


Where  we  stopped  we  erected  a  scaffold,  on  which  we  depo* 
sited  the  bundles  we  had  brought,  and  returned  to  our  encamp* 
ment,  which  we  reached  in  the  evening.  In  the  morning,  we 
carried  fresh  loads,  which  being  deposited  with  the  rest,  we 
returned  a  second  time  in  the  evening.  This  we  repeated,  till 
all  was  forwarded  one  stage.  Then,  removing  our  lodge  to 
the  place  of  deposit,  we  carried  our  goods,  with  the  same  patient 
toil,  a  second  stage ;  and  so  on,  till  we  were  at  no  great  dis* 
tance  from  the  shores  of  the  lake. 

Arrived  here,  we  turned  our  attention  to  sugar-making,  the 
management  of  which,  as  I  have  before  related,  belongs  to  the 
women,  the  men  cutting  wood  for  the  fires,  and  hunting  and 
fishing.  In  the  midst  of  this,  we  were  joined  by  several  lodges 
of  Indians,  most  of  whom  were  of  the  family  to  which  I  be- 
longed, and  had  wintered  near  us.  The  lands  belonged  to  this 
family,  and  it  had  therefore  the  exclusive  right  to  hunt  on 
them.  This  is  according  to  the  custom  of  the  people ;  for 
each  family  has  its  own  lands.  I  was  treated  very  civilly  by 
all  the  lodges. 

Our  society  had  been  a  short  time  enlarged  by  this  arrival 
of  our  friends,  when  an  accident  occurred  which  filled  all  the 
village  with  anxiety  and  sorrow.  A  little  child,  belonging  to 
one  of  our  neighbors,  fell  into  a  kettle  of  boiling  syrup.  It 
was  instantly  snatched  out,  but  with  little  hope  of  its  recovery. 

So  long,  however,  as  it  lived,  a  continual  feast  was  observed ; 
and  this  was  made  to  the  Great  Spirit  and  Master  of  Life,  that 
he  might  be  pleased  to  save  and  heal  the  child.  At  this  feast 
I  was  a  constant  guest ;  and  often  found  difficulty  in  eating 
the  large  quantity  of  food  which,  on  such  occasions  as  these, 
is  put  upon  each  man's  dish.  The  Indians  accustom  them- 
selves both  to  eat  much  and  to  fast  much  w'th  facility. 

Several  sacrifices  were  also  offered ;  among  which  were 
dogs,  killed  and  hung  upon  the  tops  of  poles,  with  the  addition 
of  Stroud  blankets  and  other  articles.  These  also  were  given 
to  the  Great  Spirit,  in  humble  hope  that  he  would  give  efficacy 
to  the  medicines  employed. 

The  child  died.  To  preserve  the  body  from  the  wolves,  it 
was  placed  upon  a  scaffold,  where  it  remained  till  we  went  to 
the  lake,  on  the  border  of  which  was  the  burial-ground  of  the 
family. 

On  our  arrival  there,  which  happened  in  the  beginning  of 
April,  I  did  not  fail  to  attend  the  funeral.  The  grave  was 
made  of  a  large  size,  and  the  whole  of  the  inside  lined  with 
birch  bark.  On  the  bark  was  laid  the  body  of  the  child,  ac- 
companied with  an  axe,  a  pair  of  snow-shoes,  a  small  kettle, 
several  pairs  of  common  shoes,  its  own  strings  of  beads,  and 


•^' 


I 


320 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


because  it  was  a  girl,  a  carrying-belt  and  a  paddle.     The  ket- 
tle was  filled  with  meat. 

All  this  was  again  covered  with  bark ;  and  at  about  two  feet 
nearer  the  surface,  logs  were  laid  across,  and  these  again  cov- 
ered with  bark,  so  that  the  earth  might  by  no  means  fall  upon 
the  corpse. 

The  last  act  before  the  burial  performed  by  the  mother, 
crying  over  the  dead  body  of  her  child,  was  that  of  taking 
from  it  a  lock  of  hair  for  a  memorial.  While  she  did  this  1 
endeavored  to  console  her,  by  offering  the  usual  arguments : 
that  the  child  was  happy  in  being  released  from  the  miseries  of 
this  present  life,  and  that  she  should  forbear  to  grieve,  because 
it  would  be  restored  to  her  in  another  world,  happy  and  ever- 
lasting. She  answered  that  she  knew  it,  and  that  by  the  lock 
of  hair  she  should  discover  her  daughter,  for  she  would  take 
it  with  her.  In  this  she  alluded  to  the  day  when  some  pious 
hand  would  place  in  her  own  grave,  along  with  the  carrying- 
belt  and  paddle,  this  little  relic,  hallowed  by  maternal  tears. 

I  have  frequently  inquired  into  the  ideas  and  opinions  of 
the  Indians  in  regard  to  futurity,  and  always  found  that  they 
were  somewhat  different  in  different  individuals. 

Some  suppose  their  souls  to  remain  in  this  world,  although 
invisible  to  human  eyes ;  and  capable,  themselves,  of  seeing 
and  hearing  their  friends,  and  also  of  assisting  them,  in  mo- 
ments of  distress  and  danger. 

Others  dismiss  from  the  mortal  scene  the  unembodied  spirit, 
and  send  it  to  a  distant  world  or  country,  in  which  it  receives 
reward  or  punishment,  according  to  the  life  which  it  has  led 
in  its  prior  state.  Those  who  have  lived  virtuously  are  trans- 
ported into  a  place  abounding  with  every  luxury,  with  deer 
and  all  other  animuls  of  the  woods  and  water,  and  where  the 
earth  produces,  in  their  greatest  perfection,  all  its  sweetest 
fruits.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who  have  violated  or 
neglected  the  duties  of  this  life,  are  removed  to  a  barren  soil, 
where  they  wander  up  and  down,  among  rocks  and  mora&ses; 
and  are  stuug  by  gnats  as  large  as  pigeons. 

While  we  remained  on  the  border  of  the  lake  a  watch  was 
kept  every  night,  in  the  apprehension  of  a  speedy  attack  from 
the  English,  who  were  expected  to  avenge  the  massacre  of 
Michilimackinac.  The  immediate  grounds  of  this  apprehen- 
sion were  the  constant  dreams,  to  this  effect,  of  the  more  aged 
women.  I  endeavored  to  persuade  them  that  nothing  of  the 
kind  would  take  place ;  but  their  fears  were  not  to  be  subdued. 

Amid  these  alarms,  there  came  a  report  concerning  a  real 
though  less  formidable  enemy  discovered  in  our  neighborhood. 
This  was  a  panther,  which  one  of  our  young  men  had  seen, 


i  I 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


331 


h  was 
c  from 
ere  of 
rehen- 
e  aged 
of  the 
bdued. 
a  real 
rhood. 
i  seeii} 


and  vhich  animal  sometimes  attacks  and  carries  away  the 
Indian  children.  Our  camp  was  immediately  on  the  alert,  and 
we  set  off  into  the  woods,  about  twenty  in  number.  We  had 
not  proceeded  more  than  a  mile  before  the  dogs  found  the  pan- 
ther, and  pursued  him  to  a  tree,  on  which  he  was  shot.  He 
was  of  a  large  size. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  April  we  embarked  for  Michilimacki- 
nac.  At  La  Grande  Traverse  we  met  a  large  party  of  Indians, 
who  appeared  to  labor,  like  ourselves,  under  considerable 
alarm ;  and  who  dared  proceed  no  further,  lest  they  should  be 
destroyed  by  the  English.  Frequent  councils  of  the  united 
bands  were  held;  and  interrogations  were  continually  put  to 
myself  as  to  whether  or  not  I  knew  of  any  design  to  attack 
them.  I  found  that  they  believed  it  possible  for  me  to  have  a 
foreknowledge  of  events,  and  to  be  informed  by  dreams  of  all 
things  doing  at  a  distance. 

Protestations  of  my  ignorance  were  received  with  but  little 
satisfaction,  and  incurred  the  suspicion  of  a  design  to  conceal 
my  knowledge.  On  this  account,  therefore,  or  because  I  saw 
them  tormented  with  fears  which  had  nothing  but  imagination 
to  rest  upon,  I  told  them,  at  length,  that  I  knew  there  was  no 
enemy  to  insult  them ;  and  that  they  might  proceed  to  Michili- 
mackinac  without  danger  from  the  English.  I  further,  and 
with  more  confidence,  declared  that  if  ever  my  countrymen 
returned  to  Michilimackinac  I  would  recommend  them  to  their 
favor,  on  account  of  the  good  treatment  which  I  had  received 
from  them.  Thus  encouraged,  they  embarked  at  an  early  hour 
the  next  morning.  In  crossing  the  bay  we  experienced  a  storm 
of  thunder  and  lightning. 

Our  port  was  the  village  of  L'Arbre  Croche,  which  we 
reached  in  safety,  and  where  we  staid  till  the  following  day. 
At  this  village  we  found  several  persons  who  had  been  lately 
at  Michilimackinac,  and  from  them  we  had  the  satisfaction  of 
learning  that  all  was  quiet  there.  The  remainder  of  our  voy- 
age was  therefore  performed  with  confidence. 

In  the  evening  of  the  twenty-seventh  we  landed  at  the  fort, 
which  now  contained  only  two  French  traders.  The  Indians 
who  had  arrived  b'Tore  us  were  very  few  in  number ;  and  by 
all,  who  were  of  our  party,  I  was  used  very  kindly.  I  had 
the  entire  freedom  both  of  the  fort  and  camp. 

Wawatam  and  myself  settled  our  stock,  and  paid  our  debts  ; 
and  this  done,  I  found  that  my  share  of  what  was  left  consisted 
in  a  hundred  beaver-skins,  sixty  raccoon-skins,  and  six  otter, 
of  the  total  value  of  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  doljf^rs^     ♦ 
With  these  earnings  of  my  winter's  toil  I  proposed  to  purchas^j^^^ 
clothes,  of  which  I  was  much  in  need,  having  been  six  montht!  < 


322 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


4 


without  a  shirt;  but,  on  inquiring  into  the  prices  of  goods,  I 
found  that  all  my  funds  would  not  go  far.  I  was  able,  how- 
ever, to  buy  two  shirts,  at  ten  pounds  of  beaver  each  ;  a  pair 
of  leggins,  or  pantaloons,  of  scarlet  cloth,  which,  with  the 
ribbon  to  garnish  ihem  fashionably,  cost  me  fifteen  pounds  of 
beaver ;  a  blanket,  at  twenty  pounds  of  beaver ;  and  some  other 
articles,  at  proportionable  rates.  In  this  manner  my  wealth 
was  soon  reduced  ;  but  not  before  I  had  laid  in  a  good  stock  of 
ammunition  and  tobacco.  To  the  use  of  the  latter  I  had  be- 
come much  attached  during  the  winter.  It  was  my  principal 
recreation  after  returning  from  the  chase ;  for  my  companions 
in  the  lodge  were  unaccustomed  to  pass  the  time  in  conversa- 
tion. Among  the  Indians  the  topics  of  conversation  are  but 
few,  and  limited,  for  the  most  part,  to  tl  3  transactions  of  the 
day,  the  number  of  animals  which  they  have  killed,  and  of 
those  which  have  escaped  their  pursuit,  aftd  other  incidents  of 
the  chase.  Indeed,  the  causes  of  taciturnity  among  the  Indians 
may  be  easily  understood,  if  we  consider  now  many  occasions 
of  speech,  which  present  themselves  to  us,  are  utterly  unknown 
to  them :  the  records  of  history,  the  pursuits  of  science,  the 
disquisitions  of  philosophy,  the  systems  of  politics,  the  busi- 
ness and  the  amusements  of  the  day,  and  the  transactions  of 
the  four  corners  of  the  world. 

Eight  days  had  passed  in  tranquillity,  when  there  arrived  a 
band  of  Indians  from  the  Bay  of  Saguenaum.  They  had 
assisted  at  the  siege  of  Detroit,  and  came  to  muster  as  many 
recruits  for  that  service  as  they  could.  For  my  own  part,  I 
was  soon  informed  that,  as  I  was  the  only  Englishman  in  the 
place,  they  proposed  to  kill  me,  in  order  to  give  their  friends 
a  mess  of  English  broth  to  raise  their  courage. 

This  intelligence  was  not  of  the  most  agreeable  kind ;  and 
in  consequence  of  receiving  it,  I  requested  my  friend  to  carry 
me  to  the  Sault  de  Sainte-Marie,  at  which  place  I  knew  the 
Indians  to  be  peaceably  inclined,  and  that  M.  Cadotte  enjoyed 
a  powerful  influence  over  their  conduct.  They  considered  M. 
Cadotte  as  their  chief;  and  he  was  not  only  my  friend,  but  a 
friend  to  the  English.  It  was  by  him  that  the  Chippeways  of 
lake  Superior  were  prevented  from  joining  Pontiac. 

Wawatam  was  not  slow  to  exert  himself  for  my  preserva- 
tion, but,  leaving  Michilimackinac  in  the  night,  transported 
myself  and  all  his  lodge  to  Point  Saint-Ignace,  on  th-  opposite 
side  of  the  strait.  Here  we  remained  till  daylight,  and  then 
went  into  the  Bay  of  Boutchitaouy,  in  which  we  spent  three 
days  in  fishing  and  hunting,  and  where  we  found  plenty  of 
wild-fowl.  Leaving  the  bay,  we  made  for  the  Isle  aux  Ou- 
tardes,  where  we  were  obliged  to  put  in,  on  account  of  the 


s"- 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


323 


Dods,  I 
i,  how- 

a  pair 
ith  the 
inds  of 
le  other 

wealth 
stock  of 
had  be- 
rincipal 
panions 
)nversa- 

are  but 
s  of  the 

and  of 
dents  of 

Indians 
ccasions 
inknown 
ince,  the 
the  busi- 
ctions  of 

^rrived  a 
hey  had 
as  many 
m  part,  I 
an  in  the 
ir  friends 

ind;  and 
to  carry 
new  the 
enjoyed 

[dered  M. 
nd,  but  a 
eways  of 

Ipreserva- 
insported 
opposite 
land  then 
lent  three 
Iplenty  of 
aux  Ou- 
lint  of  the 


wind's  coming  ahead.     We  propos.  i  sailing  for  the  Sault  the 
next  morning. 

But  when  the  morning  came,  Wawatam's  wife  complained 
that  she  was  sick,  adding,  that  shs  had  had  bad  dreams,  and 
knew  that  if  we  went  to  the  Sault  we  should  all  be  destroyed. 
To  have  argued,  at  this  time,  against  the  infallibility  of  dreams, 
would  have  been  extremely  unadvisable,  since  I  should  have 
appeared  to  be  guilty  not  only  of  an  odious  want  of  faith,  but 
also  of  a  still  more  odious  want  of  sensibility  to  the  possible 
calamities  of  a  family  which  had  done  so  much  for  the  alle- 
viation of  mine.  I  was  silent ;  but  the  disappointment  seemed 
to  seal  my  fate.  No  prospect  opened  to  console  me.  To 
return  to  Michilimackinac  could  only  ensure  my  destruction ; 
and  to  remain  at  the  island  was  to  brave  almost  equal  danger, 
since  it  lay  in  the  direct  route  between  the  fort  and  the  Mis- 
sisaki,  along  which  the  Indians  from  Detroit  were  hourly 
expected  to  pass  on  the  business  of  their  mission.  I  doubted 
not  but,  taking  advantage  of  the  solitary  situation  of  the  family, 
they  would  carry  into  execution  their  design  of  killing  me. 

Unable  thr  ^fore  to  take  any  part  in  the  direction  of  our 
course,  but  a  prey  at  the  same  tim>.  to  the  most  anxious 
thoughts  as  to  my  own  condition^  I  passed  all  the  day  on  the 
highest  part  to  which  I  could  climb  of  a  tall  tree,  and  whence 
the  lake,  on  both  sides  of  the  island,  lay  open  to  my  view. 
Here  I  might  hope  to  learn,  at  the  earliest  possible,  the  ap- 
proach of  canoes,  and  by  this  means  be  warned  in  time  to  con- 
ceal myself. 

On  the  second  morning  I  returned,  as  soon  as  it  was  light, 
to  my  watch-tower,  on  which  I  had  not  been  long  before  I 
discovered  a  sail  coming  from  Michilimackinac. 

The  sail  wa^  a  white  one,  and  much  larger  than  those 
usually  employed  by  the  Northern  Indians.  I  therefore  in- 
dulged a  hope  that  it  might  be  a  Canadian  canoe,  on  it«  voyage 
to  Montreal ;  and  that  I  might  be  able  to  prevail  upon  the 
crew  to  take  me  with  them,  and  thus  release  me  from  all  my 
troubles. 

My  hopes  continued  to  gain  ground ;  for  I  soon  persuaded 
myself  that  the  manner  in  which  the  paddles  were  used,  on 
board  the  canoe,  was  Canadian,  and  not  Indian.  My  spirits 
were  elated ;  but  disappointmenL  had  become  so  usual  with 
me  that  I  could  not  suffer  myself  to  look  to  the  event  with  any 
strength  of  confidence 

Enough,  however,  appeared  at  length  to  demonstrate  itself 
to  induce  me  to  descend  the  tree,  and  repair  to  the  lodge,  with 
my  tidings  and  schemes  of  liberty.  The  family  congratulated 
me  on  the  approach  of  so  fair  an  op]^ortunity  of  escape ;  and 


(|t^ 


M 


^- 


0 


■M 
■1 


324 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


' 


*,' 


my  father  and  brother  (for  he  was  alternately  each  of  these) 
lit  his  pipe,  and  presented  it  to  me,  saying,  "  My  son,  this 
may  be  the  last  time  that  ever  you  and  I  shall  smoke  out  of 
the  same  pipe !  I  am  sorry  to  part  with  you.  You  know  the 
affection  which  I  have  always  borne  you,  and  the  dangers  to 
which  I  have  exposed  myself  and  family,  to  preserve  you  from 
your  enemies ;  and  I  am  happy  to  find  that  my  efforts  promise 
not  to  have  been  in  vain."  At  this  time  a  boy  came  into  the 
lodge,  informing  us  that  the  canoe  had  come  from  Michili- 
mackinac,  and  was  hound  to  the  Sault  de  Sainte-Marie.  It 
was  manned  by  three  Canadians,  and  was  carrying  home 
Madame  Cadotte,  the  wife  of  M.  Cadotte,  already  mentioned. 

My  hopes  of  going  to  Montreal  being  now  dissipated,  I 
resolved  on  accompanying  Madame  Cadotte,  with  her  permis- 
sion, to  the  Sault.  On  communicp'ing  my  wishes  to  Madame 
Cadotte,  she  cheerfully  acceded  to  them.  Madame  Cadotte, 
as  I  have  already  mentioned,  was  an  Indian  woman  of  the 
Chippeway  nation,  and  she  was  very  generally  respected. 

My  departure  6xed  upon,  I  returned  to  the  lodge,  where  I 
packed  up  my  wardrobe,  consisting  of  my  two  shirts,  pair  of 
legging,  and  blanket.  Besides  these,  I  took  a  gun  and  am'' 
munition,  presenting  what  remained  further  to  my  host.  I  also 
returned  the  silver  arm-bands  with  which  the  family  had 
decorated  me  the  year  before. 

We  now  exchanged  farewells  with  an  emotion  entirely 
reciprocal.  I  did  not  quit  the  lodge  without  the  most  gratef\il 
sense  of  the  many  acts  of  goodness  which  I  had  experienced 
in  it,  nor  without  the  sincerest  respect  for  the  virtues  which  I 
had  witnessed  among  its  members.  All  the  family  accom- 
panied me  to  the  beach ;  and  the  canoe  had  no  sooner  put  ofi* 
than  Wawatam  commenced  an  address  to  the  Kichi  Manito, 
beseeching  him  to  take  care  of  me,  his  brother,  till  we  should 
next  meet.  This  he  had  told  me  would  not  be  long,  as  he 
intended  to  return  to  Michilimackinac  for  a  short  time  only, 
and  would  then  follow  me  to  the  Sault.  We  had  proceeded 
to  too  great  a  distance  to  allow  of  our  hearing  his  voice  before 
Wawatam  j^ad  ceased  to  offer  up  his  prayers. 

Being  now  no  longer  in  the  society  of  the  Indians,  I  laid 
aside  the  dress>  putting  on  that  of  a  Canadian  :  a  molton  or 
blanket  coat,  over  my  shirt ;  and  a  handkerchief  about  my 
head,  hats  being  very  little  worn  in  this  country. 

^At  daybreak,  on  the  second  morning  of  our  voyage,  wft 
etnbarked,  and  presently  perceived  several  canoes  behind  us. 
As  they  dpproached,  we  ascertained  them  to  be  the  fleet, 
bouivd  for  the  Missisaki,  of  which  I  had  been  so  long  in  dtetd. 
It  amountod' to  twenty  s|iL  ,f.- 


».  •* 


4 


these) 
n,  this 
out  of 
ow  the 
gets  to 
lu  from 
)romi8e 
nto  the 
^ichili- 
rie.     It 
r  home 
tioned. 
)ated,  I 
permifl- 
\ladame 
Cadctte, 
1  of  the 
ted. 

where  I 
,  pair  of 
ind  am" 
:.  I  al6o 
lily  had 

entirely 
gratef\il 
lerienced 
which  I 
accom- 
[r  put  off 
Manito, 
[e  ahould 
ig,  as  he 
Ime  only, 
Iroceeded 
:,e  before 

IS,  I  laid 
jolton  or 
jout  my 

ffkge,  wft 
shind  us. 
khe  fleet, 
[iti  dtead. 


ALEXANDER   HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


325 


On  corning  up  with  us,  and  surrounding  our  canoe,  and 
amid  general  inquiries  concev  ing  the  news,  an  Indian  chal- 
lenged me  for  an  Englishrridn,  and  his  companions  support- 
ed him,  by  declaring  that  I  looked  very  like  one;  lut  I 
afTected  not  to  understand  any  of  the  questions  which  they 
asked  me,  and  Madame  Cadotte  assured  them- that  I  was  a 
Canadian,  whom  she  had  brought  on  his  first  voyage  from 
Montreal. 

The  following  day  saw  us  safely  landed  at  the  Sault,  where 
I  experienced  a  generous  welcome  from  M.  Cadotte.  There 
were  thirty  warriors  at  this  place,  restrained  from  joining  in 
the  war  only  by  M.  Cadotte's  influence. 

Here,  for  five  days,  I  wes  once  more  in  possession  of  tran- 
quillity; but  on  the  sixth  a  young  Indian  came  into  M. 
Cadotte's,  saying  that  a  canoe  full  of  warriors  had  just  arrived 
from  Michilimackinac  ;  that  they  had  inquired  for  me  ;  and  that 
he  believed  their  intentions  to  be  bad.  Nearly  at  the  same  time, 
a  message  came  from  the  good  chief  of  the  village,  desiring  me 
to  conceal  myself  until  he  should  discover  the  views  and  tem- 
per of  the  strangers. 

A  garret  was  the  second  time  my  place  of  refuge  ;  and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  Indians  came  to  M.  Cadotte's.  My 
friend  immediately  informed  Mutchikiwish,  their  chief,  who 
was  related  to  his  wife,  of  the  design  imputed  to  them, 
of  mischief  against  myself  Mutchikiwish  frankly  acknow- 
ledged that  they  had  had  ^uch  a  design ;  but  added  that  if 
displeasing  to  M.  Cadotte,  it  should  be  abandoned.  He  then 
further  stated,  that  their  errand  was  to  raise  a  party  of  war- 
riors to  return  with  them  to  Detroit ;  and  that  it  had  been  their 
intention  to  take  me  with  them 

In  regard  to  the  principal  of  the  two  objects  thus  disclosed, 
M.  Cadotte  proceeded  to  assemble  all  the  chiefs  and  warriors 
of  the  village ;  and  these,  after  deliberating  for  some  time 
among  themselves,  sent  Tor  the  strangers,  to  whom  both  M. 
Cadotte  and  the  chief  of  the  village  addressed  a  speech.  In 
these  speeches,  after  recurring  to  the  designs  confessed  to  have 
been  entertained  against  myself,  who  was  now  declared  to  be 
under  the  immediate  protection  of  all  the  chiefs,  by  whom  any 
insult  I  might  sustain  v/ould  be  avenged,  the  ambassadors 
were  peremptorily  told  that  they  might  go  back  as  they  came, 
none  of  the  young  men  of  this  village  being  foolish  enough. 
^0  join  them.  * 

A  moment  after,  a  report  was  brought,  that  a  canoe  had  just 
arrived  from  Niagara.  As  this  was  a  place  from  which  every 
one  was  anxious  to  hear  news,  a  message  was  sent  to  these, 
fresh  strangers,  requesting  them  to  come  to  the  cooncil. 

OQ  »  -.^ 


28 


;*■-*■ 

■4, 


«." 


.1* 
t 


326 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


I 


^ 


.*     \.. 


n-- 


The  strangers  came  accordingly,  and  being  seated,  a  long 
silence,  ensued.  At  length,  one  of  them,  taking  up  a  belt  of 
wampum,  addressed  himself  thus  to  the  assembly :  •'  My 
friends  and  brothers,  I  am  come,  with  this  belt,  from  our 
great  father,  Sir  William  Johnson.  He  desired  me  to  come 
to  you  as  his  .ambassador,  and  tell  you  that  he  is  making  a 
great  feast  at  fort  Niagara ;  that  his  kettles  are  all  ready,  and 
his  fires  lit.  He  invites  you  to  partake  of  the  feast,  in  com- 
mon with  your  friends,  the  Six  Nations,  which  have  all  made 
peace  with  the  English.  He  advises  you  to  seize  this  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  the  same,  as  you  cannot  otherwise  fail  of  being 
destroyed ;  fur  the  English  are  on  their  march,  with  a  great 
army,  which  will  be  joined  by  different  nations  of  Indians. 
In  a  word,  before  the  fall  of  the  leaf,  they  will  be  at  Michili- 
mackinac,  and  the  Six  Nations  with  them." 

The  tenor  of  this  speech  greatly  alarmed  the  Indians  of  the 
Sault,  who,  after  a  very  short  consultation,  agreed  to  send  twenty 
deputies  to  Sir  William  Johnson,  at  Niagara.  This  was  a 
project  highly  interesting  to  me,  since  it  offered  me  the  means 
of  leaving  the  country.  I  intimated  this  to  the  chief  of  the 
village,  and  received  his  promise  that  I  should  accompany  the 
deputation. 

Very  little  time  was  proposed  to  be  lost,  in  setting  forward 

on  the  voyage  ;  but  the  occasion  was  of  too  much  magnitude 

,  not  to  call  for  more  than  human  knowledge  and  discretion ; 

and  preparations  were  accordingly  n^ade  for  solemnly  invoking 

and  consulting  the  Great  Turtle. 

For  invoking  and  consulting  the  Great  Turtle,  the  first  thing 
to  be  done  was  the  building  of  a  large  house  or  wigwam, 
within  which  was  placed  a  species  of  tent,  for  the  use  of  the 
priest  and  reception  of  the  spirit.  The  tent  was  formed  of 
moose-skins,  hung  over  a  frame-work  of  wood.  Five  poles,  or 
rather  pillars,  of  five  different  species  of  timber,  about  ten  feet 
in  height,  and  eight  inches  in  diameter,  were  set  in  a  circle 
of  about  four  feet  in  diameter.  The  holes  made  to  re- 
ceive them  were  about  two  feel  deep ;  and  the  pillars  being 
set,  the  holes  were  filled  up  again,  with  the  earth  which  had 
been  dug  out.  At  top  the  pillars  were  bound  together  by  a 
circular  hoop,  or  girder.  Over  the  whole  of  this  edifice  were 
spread  the  moose-skins,  covering  it  at  top  and  round  the  sides, 
and  made  fast  with  thongs  of  the  same  ;  except  that  on  one  side 
.a  part  was  left  unfastened,  to  admit  of  the  entrance  of  the  priest. 

^€f  ceremonies  did  not  commence  but  with  the  apt /roach  of 
flight*^,  fta^ve  light  within  the  house,  several  fires  were  kin- 
dled'-rojpipd  uie  tent.  Nearly  the  whole  village  asiembled  in 
the^ftuse^*  ^od  myself  among  the  rest.     It  was  not  long  before 


He 


# 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


327 


I  long 
belt  of 

•'My 
B  our 

come 
king  a 
[y,  and 
I  com- 
i  made 
oppor- 
f  being 
1  great 
ndians. 
dichili- 

I  of  the 
twenty 
was  a 
s  means 
■  of  the 
any  the 

forward 
gnitude 
jretion ; 
[ivoking 

St  thing 
igwam, 
of  the 
rmed  of 
)oles,  or 
ten  feet 
,  circle 
to  re- 
being 
ich  had 
ler  by  a 
e  were 
sides, 
one  side 
priest, 
oach  of 
ere  kin- 
ibled  in 
before 


s 


the  priest  appeared,  almost  in  a  state  of  nakedness.  As  he 
approached  the  tent  the  skins  were  lifted  up,  as  much  as  was 
necessary  to  allow  of  his  creeping  under  them,  on  his  hands 
and  knees.  His  head  was  scarcely  withinside,  when  the 
edifice,  massy  as  it  has  been  described,  began  to  shake ;  and 
the  skins  were  no  sooner  let  fall,  than  the  sounds  of  numerous 
voices  were  heard  beneath  them,  some  yelling,  some  barking 
as  dogs,  some  howling  like  wolves,  and  in  this  horrible  con- 
cert were  mingled  screams  and  sobs,  as  of  despair,  anguish 
and  the  sharpest  pain.  Articulate  speech  was  also  uttered,  as 
if  from  human  lips,  but  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  any  of  the 
audience. 

After  some  time,  these  confused  and  frightful  noises  were 
succeeded  by  a  perfect  silence ;  and  now  a  voice,  not  heard 
before,  seemed  to  manifest  the  arrival  of  a  new  character  in 
the  tent.  This  was  a  low  and  feeble  voice,  resembling  the 
cry  of  a  young  puppy.  The  sound  was  no  sooner  distin- 
guished, tnan  all  the  Indians  clapped  their  hands  for  joy,  ex- 
claiming, that  this  was  the  Chief  Spirit,  the  Turtle,  the  spirit 
that  never  lied !  Other  voices,  which  they  had  discriminated 
from  tim3  to  time,  they  had  previously  hissed,  as  recognising 
them  to  belong  to  evil  and  lying  spirits,  which  deceive  man- 
kind. 

New  sounds  came  from  the  tent.  During  the  space  of  half 
an  hour,  a  succession  of  songs  were  heard,  in  which  a  diver- 
sity of  voices  met  the  ear.  From  his  first  entrance,  till  these 
songs  were  finished,  we  heard  nothing  in  the  proper  voice  of 
the  priesi ;  but  now,  he  addressed  the  multitude,  declaring  the 
presence  of  the  Great  Turtle,  and  the  spirit's  readiness  to 
answer  such  questions  as  should  be  proposed. 

The  questions  were  to  come  from  the  chief  of  the  village, 
who  was  sile:  t,  however,  till  after  he  had  put  a  large  quantity 
of  tobacco  into  the  tent,  introducing  it  at  the  aperture.  This 
was  a  sacrifice  offered  to  the  spirit ;  for  spirits  are  supposed 
by  the  Indians  to  be  as  fond  of  tobacco  as  themselves.  The 
tobacco  accepted,  he  desired  the  priest  to  inquire  whether  or 
not  the  English  were  preparing  to  make  war  upon  the  Indians ; 
and  whether  or  not  there  were  at  fort  Niagara  a  large  num- 
ber of  English  troops. 

These  questions  having  been  put  by  the  priest,  the  tent 
instantly  shook ;  and  for  some  seconds  after  it  continued  to 
rock  so  violently  that  I  expected  to  see  it  levelled  withith^ 
ground.  All  this  was  a  prelude,  as  I  supposed,  to  the  answers' 
to  be  gtven ;  but  a  terrific  cry  announced,  ^ilfh  ^^cijeUlt 
intelligibility,  the  departure  of  the  Turtle. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed  in  silence,  s 


*  * ' 


J^itedl 


^ 


328 


ALEXANDER   HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


•p^ 


tiently  to  discover  what  was  to  be  the  next  incident  in  thia 
•cene  of  imposture.  It  consisted  in  the  return  of  the  spirit, 
whose  voice  was  again  heard,  and  who  now  delivered  a  con- 
tinued speech.  The  language  of  the  Great  Turtle,  like 
that  which  we  had  heard  hcfurc,  was  wholly  unintelligible  to 
every  ear,  that  of  his  priest  excepted ;  and  it  was,  therefore, 
not  till  the  latter  gave  us  an  interpretation,  which  did  not 
commence  before  the  spirit  had  finished,  that  we  learned  the 
purport  of  this  extraordinary  communication. 

The  spirit,  as  wo  were  now  informed  by  the  priest,  had, 
during  his  short  absence,  crossed  lake  Huron,  and  even  pro- 
ceeded ns  far  as  fort  Niagara,  which  is  at  the  head  of  lake 
Ontario,  and  thence  to  Montreal.  At  fort  Niagara,  he  had 
seen  no  great  number  of  soldiers ;  but  on  descending  the  St. 
Lawrence,  as  low  as  Montreal,  he  had  found  the  river  covered 
with  boats,  and  the  boats  filled  with  soldiers,  in  number  like 
the  leaves  of  the  trees.  He  had  met  them  on  their  way  up 
the  river,  coming  to  make  war  upon  the  Indians. 

The  chief  had  a  third  question  to  propose,  and  the  spirit, 
without  a  fresh  journey  to  fort  Niagara,  was  able  to  give  an 
instant  and  most  favorable  answer.  '*  If,"  said  the  chief,  "  the 
Indians  visit  Sir  William  Johnson,  will  they  be  received  as 
friends  ?" 

"  Sir  William  Johnson,"  said  the  spirit,  (and  after  the  spirit 
the  priest,)  '•  Sir  William  Johnson  will  fill  their  canoes  with 

{ presents,  with  blankets,  kettles,  guns,  gunpowder  and  shot,  and 
arge  barrels  of  rum,  such  as  the  stoutest  of  the  Indians  will 
not  be  able  to  lift;  and  every  man  will  return  in  safety  to  his 
family." 

At  this,  the  transport  was  universal ;  and,  amid  the  clap- 
ping of  hands,  a  hundred  voices  exclaimed,  "  I  will  go,  too ! 
1  will  go  too  !" 

The  questions  of  public  interest  being  resolved,  individuals 
were  now  permitted  to  seize  the  opportunity  of  inquiring  into 
the  condition  of  their  absent  friends,  and  the  fate  of  such  as 
were  sick.  I  observed  that  the  answers,  given  to  these  ques- 
tions, allowed  of  much  latitude  of  interpretation. 

Amid  this  general  inquisitiveness,  I  yielded  to  the  solicita- 
tions of  my  own  anxiety  for  the  future ;  and  having  first,  like 
the  rest,  made  my  offering  of  tobacco,  I  inquired  whether  or 
not  I  should  ever  revisit  my  native  country.  The  question 
being  put  by  the  priest,  the  tent  shook  as  usual  ^^  after  which 
I  received  this  answer :  "  That  I  should  take  courage,  and  fear 
no  dapger,  for  that  nothing  would  happen  to  hurt  me ;  and  that 
I  should,  in  the  end,  reach  my  friends  and  country  in  safety." 

t 


«* 

»<i» 


ALEXANDER   HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


329 


ividuals 
\g  into 
^uch  as 
ques- 

plicita- 
•st,  like 
Ither  or 
juestion 
which 
Ind  fear 
lind  that 
safety." 


These  assurances  wrought  so  strongly  on  my  gratitude,  that  I 
presented  an  additional  and  extra  oHering  of  tobticro. 

The  Great  Turtle  continued  to  be  consulted  till  near  mid- 
night, when  all  the  crowd  dispersed  to  their  respective  lodges. 
I  was  on  the  watch,  through  the  scene  I  have  described,  to 
detect  the  particular  contrivances  by  which  the  fraud  was 
carried  on  ;  b«it  such  was  the  skill  displayed  in  the  perform- 
ance, or  such  my  deficiency  of  penetration,  that  I  made 
no  discoveries,  but  came  away  as  I  went,  with  no  more  than 
those  general  surmises  which  will  naturally  be  entertained  by 
every  reader.* 

On  the  10th  of  June,  I  embarked  with  the  Indian  deputa- 
tion, composed  of  sixteen  men.  Tweniy  had  been  the  num- 
ber originally  designee' ;  and  upward  of  fifty  actually  engai^ed 
themselves  to  the  council  for  the  undertaking ;  to  say  nothing 
of  the  general  enthusiasm,  at  the  moment  of  hearing  the 
Great  Turtle's  promises.  But  exclusively  of  the  degree  of 
timidity  which  still  prevailed,  we  are  to  take  into  account  the 
various  domestic  calls,  which  might  supersede  all  others,  and 
detain  many  with  their  families. 

In  the  evening  of  the  second  day  of  our  voyage,  we  reached 
the  mouth  of  the  Missisaki,  where  we  found  about  forty 
Indians,  by  whom  we  were  received  with  abundant  kindness, 
and  at  night  regaled  at  a  great  feast,  held  on  account  of  our 
arrival.  The  viand  was  a  preparation  of  the  roe  of  the  stur- 
geon, beat  up,  and  boiled,  and  of  the  consistence  of  porridge. 

After  eating,  several  speeches  were  made  to  us,  of  which 
the  general  topic  was  a  request  that  we  should  recommend  the 
village  to  Sir  William  Johnson.  This  request  was  also  spe- 
cially addressed  to  me,  and  I  promised  to  comply  with  it. 

On  the  14th  of  June,  we  passed  the  village  of  La  Cloche, 
of  which  the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  were  absent,  being 
already  on  a  visit  to  Sir  William  Johnson.  This  circumstance 
greatly  encouraged  the  companions  of  my  voyage,  who  now 
saw  that  they  were  not  the  first  to  run  into  danger. 

The  next  day,  about  noon,  the  wind  blowing  very  hard,  we 
were  obliged  to  put  ashore  at  Point  aux  Grondines,  a  place  of 

*  M.  de  Champlain  has  left  an  account  of  an  exhibition  of  the  nature 
here  described,  which  may  be  seen  in  Charlevoix's  Histoire  et  Description 
Generale  de  la  Nouvelle  France,  livre  IV.  This  took  place  in  the  year 
1609,  and  was  performed  among  a  party  of  warriors,  conj  posed  of  Algon- 
quins,  Montagaez  and  Hurons.  Carver  witnessed  another,  among  the 
Christinaux.  fn  each  case,  the  details  are  somewhat  different,  but  the 
outline  is  the  same.  M.  de  Champlain  mentions  that  he  saw  the  jongleur 
shake  the  stakes  or  pillars  of  Ae  tent.  I  was  not  so  forttmate  ;  but  this 
is  the  obvious  explanation  of  that  part  of  the  mystery  to  which  it  refers. 
Captain  Carver  leaves  the  whole  in  darkness, 

28*  "     •      ■■: 


i'1 


^fim-' 


890 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


■^f* 


-*v 


which  some  description  has  been  given  above.  While  the  In- 
dians erected  a  hut,  I  employed  myself  in  making  a  fire.  As 
I  was  gathering  wood,  an  unusal  sound  fixed  my  attention  for 
a  moment ;  but,  as  it  presently  ceased,  and  as  I  saw  nothing 
from  which  I  could  suppose  it  to  proceed,  I  continued  my  em- 
ployment, till,  advancing  further,  I  was  alarmed  by  a  repetition. 
I  imagined  that  it  came  from  above  my  head ;  but  after  look- 
ing that  way  in  vain,  I  cast  my  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  there 
discovered  a  rattlesnake,  at  not  more  than  two  feet  from  my 
naked  legs.  The  reptile  was  coiled,  and  its  head  raised  con- 
siderably above  its  body.  Had  I  advanced  another  step  before 
my  discovery,  I  must  have  trodden  upon  it. 

I  no  sooner  saw  the  snake  than  I  hastened  to  the  canoe,  in 
order  to  procure  my  gun ;  but  the  Indians,  observing  what  I 
was  doing,  inquired  the  occasion,  and  being  informed,  begged 
me  to  desist.  At  the  same  time  they  followed  me  to  the  spot, 
with  their  pipes  and  tobacco-pouches  in  their  hands.  On  re- 
turning, I  found  the  snake  still  coiled.  . 

The  Indians,  on  their  part,  surrounded  it,  all  addressing  it 
by  turns  and  calling  it  their  grandfather ;  but  yet  keeping  at 
some  distance.  During  this  part  of  the  ceremony  they  filled 
their  pipes ;  and  now  each  blew  the  smoke  toward  the  snake, 
who,  as  it  a;ppeared  to  me,  really  received  it  w^ith  pleasure.  In 
a!  word,  after  remaining  coiled,  and  receiving  incensl;,  for  the 
space  of  half  an  hour,  it  stretched  itself  along  the-ground  in 
visible  good  humor.  Its  length  was  between  four  and  five  feet. 
Having  remained  outstretched  for  some  time,  at  last  it  moved 
slowly  away,  the  Indians  following  it,  and  still  addressing  it  by 
the  title  of  grandfather,  beseeching  it  to  take  care  of  their 
families  during  their  absence,  and  to  be  pleased  to  open  the 
heart  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  so  that  he  might  show  them 
charity,  and  fill  their  canoe  with  ruin. 

One  of  the  chiefs  added  a  petition  that  the  snake  would  take 
no  notice  of  the  insult  which  had  been  offered  him  by  the 
Englishman,  who  would  even  have  put  him  to  death  but  for 
the  interference  of  the  Indians,  to  whom  it  was  hoped  he  would 
impute  no  part  of  the  offence.  They  further  requested  that  he 
would  remain  and  inhabit  their  country,  and  not  return  among 
the  English,  that  is,  go  eastward. 

After  the  rattlesnake  was  gone,  I  learned  that  this  was  the 
first  time  that  an  individual  of  the  species  had  been  seen  so  far 
to  the  northward  and  westward  of  the  river  Des  Fran^ais ;  a 
circumstance,  moreover,  from  which  my  companions  were  dis- 
posed to  infer  that  this  manito  had|Come  or  been  sent  on  pur- 
pose to  meet  them ;  that  his  errandrnad  been  no  other  than  to 
stop  them  on  their  way ;  and  that  consequently  it  would  be 


% 


[le  In- 
.     As 

on  for 
Bthing 
ly  em- 
itition. 
r  look- 
l  there 
jm  my 
;d  con- 
before 

noe,  in 
what  I 
begged 
le  spot, 
On  re- 

issing  it 
jping  at 
ey  filled 
?.  snake, 
ire-.     In 
,  for  the 
',und  in 
ve  feet. 
It  moved 
|hg  it  by 
of  their 
ipen  the 
w  them 

lid  take 
by  the 
but  for 

le  would  ^ 
that  he 
among 

I  was  the 
\n  so  far 
(icjais ;  a 
[rere  dis- 
on  pur- 
than  to 
Luld  be 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S   CAPTIVITY. 


331 


most  advisable  to  return  to  the  point  of  departure.  I  was  so 
fortunate,  however,  as  to  prevail  with  them  to  embark  ;  and  at 
six  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  again  encamped.  Very  little 
was  spoken  of  through  the  evening,  the  rattlesnake  excepted. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  proceeded.  We  had  a  serene 
sky  and  very  little  wind,  and  the  Indians  therefore  determined 
on  steering  across  the  lake  to  an  island  which  just  appeared  in 
the  horizon  ;  saving,  by  this  course,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles, 
which  would  be  lost  in  keeping  the  shore.  At  nine  o'clock,  A. 
M.  we  had  a  light  breeze  astern,  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  which 
we  hoisted  sail.  Soon  after  the  wind  increased,  and  the  In- 
dians, beginning  to  be  alarmed,  frequently  called  on  the  rattle- 
snake to  come  to  their  assistance.  By  degrees  the  waves  grew 
high ;  and  at  eleven  o'clock  it  blew  a  hurricane,  and  we  ex- 
pected every  moment  to  be  swallowed  up.  From  prayers  the 
Indians  now  proceeded  to  sacrifices,  both  alike  offered  to  the 
god  rattlesnake,  or  manito  kinibic.  One  of  the  chiefs  took  a 
dog,  and  after  tying  its  fore  legs  together  threw  it  overboard, 
at  the  same  time  calling  on  the  snake  to  preserve  us  from  being 
drowned,  and  desiring  him  to  satisfy  his  hunger  with  the  car- 
cass of  the  dog.  The  snake  was  unpropitious,  and  the  wind 
increased.  Another  chief  sacrificed  another  dog,  with  the 
addition  of  some  tobacco.  In  the  prayer  which  accompanied 
these  gifts,  he  besought  the  snake,  as  before,  not  to  avenge  upon 
the  Indians  the  insult  which  he  had  received  from  myself,  in 
the  conception  of  a  design  to  put  him  to  death.  He  assured 
thjB  snake  that  I  was  absolutely  an  Englishman,  and  of  kin 
neither  to  him  nor  to  them. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  speech,  an  Indian  who  sat  near  me 
observed,  ihat  if  we  were  drowned  it  would  be  for  my  fault 
alone,  and  that  I  ought  myself  to  be  sacrificed,  to  appease  the 
angry  manito  ;  nor  was  I  without  apprehensions  that  in  case 
of  extremity  this  would  be  my  fate ";  but,  happily  for  me,  the 
storm  at  length  abated,  and  we  reached  the  island  safely. 

The  next  day  was  calm,  and  we  arrived  at  tha  entrance*  of 
the  navii>^ation  which  leads  to  lake  Aux  Claies.t  We  present- 
ify  passed  two  short  carrying-places,  at  each  of  which  were 
several  lodges  of  Indians, t  containing  only  women  and  children, 
the  men  bping  gone  to  the  council  at  Niagara.  From  this,  as 
from  a  former  instance,  my  companions  derived  new  courage. 

*  This  is  the  bay  of  Matchedash,  or  Matchitashk. 

t  This  lake,  which  is  now  called  lake  Simcoe,  lies  between  lakes  Hu- 
ron and  Ontario. 

I  These  Indians  are  Chippaifrays,  of  the  particular  description  called 
Missisakies ;  and  from  then-  residence  at  IMatchedash,  or  Matchitashkf 
also  called  Matchedash  or  Matchitashk  Indians.  ^,  r£iu 


iSr 


•   4 


332 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'S  CAPTIVITY. 


f 


On  the  18th  of  June,  we  crossed  lake  Aux  dales,  which 
appeared  to  he  upward  of  twenty  miles  in  length.  At  its  fur- 
ther end  we  came  to  the  carrying-place  of  Toranto.*  Here 
the  Indians  obliged  me  to  carry  a  burden  of  more  than  a  hun- 
dred pounds  weight.  The  day  was  very  hot,  and  the  woods 
and  marshes  abounded  with  mosquitoes;  but  the  Indians 
walked  at  a  quick  pace,  and  I  could  by  no  means  see  myself 
left  behind.  The  whole  country  was  a  thick  forest,  through 
which  our  only  road  was  a  foot-path,  or  such  as,  in  America,  is 
exclusively  termed  an  Indian  path. 

Next  morning  at  ten  o'clock  we  reached  the  shore  of  lake 
Ontario.  Here  we  were  employed  two  days  in  making  canoes 
out  of  the  bark  of  the  elm  tree,  in  which  we  were  to  transport 
ourselves  to  Niagara.  For  this  purpose  the  Indians  first  cut 
down  a  tree ;  then  stripped  off  the  bark  in  one  entire  sheet  of 
about  eighteen  feet  in  length,  the  incision  being  lengthwise. 
The  canoe  was  now  complete  as  to  its  top,  bottom,  and  sides. 
Its  ends  were  next  closed  by  sewing  the  uark  together ;  and  a 
few  ribs  and  bars  being  introduced,  the  architecture  was  finish- 
ed. In  this  manner  we  made  two  canoes,  of  which  one  car- 
ried eight  men  and  the  other  nine. 

On  the  21st,  we  embarked  at  Toranto,  and  encamped  in  the 
evening  four  miles  short  of  fort  Niagara,  which  the  Indians 
would  not  approach  till  morning. 

At  dawn,  the  Indians  were  awake,  and  presently  assembled 
in  council,  still  doubtful  as  to  the  fate  they  were  to  encounter. 
I  assured  them  of  the  most  friendly  welcome ;  and  at  length, 
after  painting  themselves  with  the  most  lively  colors,  in  token 
of  their  own  peaceable  views,  and  after  singing  the  song  which 
is  in  use  among  them  on  going  into  danger,  they  embarked, 
and  made  for  point  Missisaki,  which  is  on  the  north  side  of 
the  mouth  of  the  river  or  strait  of  Niagara,  as  the  fort  is  on 
the  south.  A  few  minutes  after  I  crossed  over  to  the  fort ;  and 
here  I  was  received  by  Sir  William  Johnson,  in  a  manner  for 
which  I  have  ever'  been  gratefully  attached  "^^o  his  person  and 
memory. 

Thus  was  completed  my  escape  from  the  sufferings  and 
dangers  which  the  captiilre  of  fort  Michilimackinac  brought 
upon  me  ;  but  the  property  which  I  had  carried  into  the  upper 
country  was  left  behind.  >.  The  readet  will  therefore  be  far 
from  attributing-  to  me  *hy  idle  or  unaccountable  motive,  when 
he  finds  me  returning  to  the  scene  of  my  misfortunes. 


4^ 
•  Toranto,  or  Toronto,  is  the  name  of 

Ontario,  built  near  the  site  of  the  present 

province  of  Upper  Canada.    [It  is  one 

that  nrovince  at  this  time. — Ed.] 


Srenc 
n  of 
tie  I 


rench  trading-Jbonse  on  lake 
'  York,  the  capital  of  the 
most  important  places  in 


333 


js  and 
[rought 

upper 
I  be  far 

when 


Ion  lake 
Llof  the 
llacesiB 


U 


NARRATIVE 
OF  THE  CAPTIVITY  OP  FREDERICK  MANHEIM. 

Frederick  Manheim,  an  industrious  German,  with  his  fam- 
ily, consisting  of  his  wife,  a  daughter  of  eighteen  years  oi  age, 
and  Maria  and  Christina,  hJs  youngest  children,  (twins,)  about 
sixteen,  resided  near  the  river  Mohawk,  eight  miles  west  of 
Johnston.  On  the  19th  of  October,  1779,  the  father  being  at 
work  at  some  distance  from  his  habitation,  and  the  mother  and 
eldest  daughter  on  a  visit  at  a  neighbor's,  two  hostile  Cana- 
sadaga  Indians  rushed  in  and  captured  the  twin  sisters. 

The  party  to  which  these  savages  belonged  consisted  of  fifty 
warriors,  who,  after  securing  twenty-three  of  the  inhabitants 
of  that  neighborhood,  (among  whom  was  the  unfortunate  Fre- 
derick Manheim,)  and  firing  their  houses,  retired  for  four  days 
with  the  utmost  precipitancy,  till  they  were  quite  safe  from 
pursuit.  The  place  where  they  halted  on  the  evening  of  the 
day  of  rest  was  a  thick  pine  swamp,"which  rendered  the  dark- 
ness of  an  uncommonly  gloomy  night  still  more  dreadful. 
The  Indians  kindled  a  fire,  which  they  had  not  done  before, 
and  ordered  their  prisoners,  whom  they  kept  together,  to 
refresh  themselves  with  such  provisions  as  they  had.  The 
Indians  eat  by  themselves.  After  supper  the  appalled  captives 
observed  their  enemies,  instead  of  retiring  to  rest,  busied  in 
operations  vvhich  boded  iflhing  good.  Two  saplings  were 
pruned  clear  of  br^^ches  up  to  the  very  top,  and  all  the  brush 
cleared  away  for  several  rods  around  them.    While  this  was 


# 

% 


\ 


i 


\\ 


*^-> 


"v*.';' 


I 


334 


MRS.    BOZARTH'S  EXPLOIT. 


doing,  others  were  splitting  pitch-pine  billets  into  small  splinters 
about  five  inches  in  length,  and  as  small  as  one's  little  finger, 
iiharpening  one  end,  and  dipping  the  other  in  melted  turpen- 
tine. 

At  k  i'l,  with  countenances  distorted  by  infernal  fury,  and 
hideou  ^lls,  the  two  savages  who  had  captured  the  hapless 
Maria  .i  Christina  leaped  into  the  midst  of  the  circle  of  pri- 
soners, and  dragged  those  ill-fated  maidens,  shrieking,  from  the 
embraces  of  their  companions.  These  warriors  had  disagreed 
about  whose  property  the  girls  should  be,  as  they  had  jointly 
seized  them ;  and,  to  terminate  the  dispute  agreeably  to  the 
abominable  custom  of  the  savages,  it  was  determined  by  the 
chiefs  of  the  party  that  the  prisoners  who  had  given  rise  to  the 
contention  should  be  destroyed,  and  that  their  captors  should 
be  the  principal  agents  in  the  execrable  business.  These  furies, 
assisted  by  their  comrades,  stripped  the  forlorn  girls,  convulsed 
with  apprehensions,  and  tied  each  to  a  sapling,  with  their  hands 
as  hign  extended  above  their  heads  as  possible ;  and  then 
pitched  then  from  their  knees  to  ilieir  shoulders,  with  upwards 
of  six  hundred  of  the  sharpened  splinters  above  described, 
which,  at  every  puncture,  were  attended  with  screams  of  dis- 
tress, that  echoed  through  the  wilderness.  And  then,  to  com- 
plete the  infernal  tragedy,  the  splinters,  all  standing  erect  on 
the  bleeding  victims,  were  set  on  fire,  and  exhibited  a  scene  of 
extreme  misery,  beyond  the  power  of  speech  to  describe,  or 
even  the  imagination  to  conceive.  It  was  not  until  near  three 
hours  had  elapsed  from  the  comm  ncement  of  their  torments, 
and  that  they  had  lost  almost  every  resemblance  of  the  human 
form,  that  these  helpless  virgins  sunk  down  in  the  arms  of  their 
deliverer,  death. 


•S^ 


SIGNAL  PROWESS  OF  A  WOMAN,  IN  A  COMBAT 

WITH  SOME  INDIANS.    IN  A  LETTER  TO  A  LADY  OF  PHIL- 
ADELPHIA. 

Westmoreland,  April  26,  1779. 

Madam, — I  have  written  an  account  of  a  very  particular 

affair  between  a  whitfti  man  and  two  Indians.*     I  am  now  to 

give  you  a  relation  in  which  you  will  see  how  a  person  of 

your  sex  acquitted  herself  in  defence  of  her  own  life,  and  that 

''''^•her  husband  and  children.  ,•     • 

•  '         ■     '  /.'%*■"'  ■  ■*^'*^* 

*  Reference  is  probably  made  to  tH^  desperate  encounter  -of  one  Mor- 
gan and  two  Indians.— £d.  .    • 


•  « 


«r 


KEV.  JOHN   CORBLY'S  NARRATIVE. 


335 


linters 
finger, 
urpen- 

y,  and 
lapless 
of  pri- 
om  the 
iagrecd 
jointly 
r  to  the 
by  the 
e  to  the 
;  should 
B  furies, 
nvulsed 
ir  hands 
nd  then 
jpwards 
jscribed, 
3  of  dis- 
to  com- 
I  erect  on 
scene  of 
cribe,  or 
ar  three 
orments, 
human 
of  their 


)MBAT 
P  PHIL- 

1779. 

Tticular 

now  to 

erson  of 

nd  that 

oi^e  Mor* 


The  lady  who  is  the  burthen  of  this  story  is  named  Expe- 
rience Bozarth.  She  lives  on  a  creek  (ailed  Dunkard  creek, 
in  the  south-west  corner  of  this  county.  About  the  middle  of 
March  last,  two  or  three  families,  who  ^veTe  afraid  to  stay  at 
home,  gathered  to  her  house  and  there  stayed ;  looking  on 
themselves  to  be  safer  than  when  all  scattered  about  at  their 
own  houses. 

On  a  certain  day  some  of  the  children  thus  collected  came 
running  in  from  play  in  great  haste,  saying  there  were  ugly 
red  men.  One  of  the  men  in  the  house  stepped  to  the  door, 
where  he  recoived  a  ball  in  the  side  of  his  breast,  which  caused 
him  to  fall  back  into  the  house.  The  Indian  was  imm  ^diately 
in  over  him,  and  engaged  with  another  man  who  was  in  the 
house.  The  man  tossed  the  Indian  on  a  bed,  and  called  for  a 
knife  to  kill  him.  (Observe  these  we^e  all  the  men  that  were 
in  the  house.)  Now  Mrs.  Bozarth  appears  the  only  defence, 
who,  not  finding  a  knife  at  hand,  took  up  an  axe  that  lay  by, 
and  with  one  blow  cut  out  the  brains  of  the  Indian.  At  that 
instant,  (for  all  was  instantaneous,)  a  second  Indian  entered  the 
door,  and  shot  the  man  dead  who  was  engaged  with  the  Indian 
on  the  bed.  Mrs.  Bozarth  turned  to  this  second  Indian,  and 
with  her  axe  ?;ave  him  several  large  cuts,  some  of  which  let 
his  entrails  appear.  He  bawled  out,  murder,  murder.  On  this 
sundry  other  Indians  (who  had  hitherto  been  fully  employed, 
killing  some  children  out  of  doors)  came  rushing  to  his  relief; 
one  of  whose  heads  Mrs.  Bozarth  clove  in  two  with  her  axe,  as 
he  stuck  it  in  at  the  door,  which  laid  him  flat  upon  the  soil. 
Another  snatched  hold  of  the  wounded  bellowing  fellow,  and 
pulled  him  oat  of  doors,  and  Mrs.  Bozarth,  with  the  assistance 
of  the  man  who  was  first  shot  in  the  door,  and  by  this  time  a 
little  recovered,  shut  the  door  after  them,  and  made  it  fast, 
where  they  kept  garrison  for  several'days,  the  dead  white  man 
and  dead  Indian  both  in  the  house  with  them,  and  the  Indiaoft 
about  the  house  besieging  them.  At  length  they  were  relieved 
by  a  party  sent  for  that  purpose. 

This  whole  affair,  to  shutting  the  door,  was  not  perhaps  more 
than  three  minutes  in  acting.  .  -. 


REV.    JOHN    CORBLY'S    NARRATIVE. 

If,  af^er  perusing  the  annexed  ,  melancholy  narrative,  ^ou 
deem'it  WorChy  a  place  in  jm;  >'iblication,  it  is  at  your  service. 
Such  communications,  fdim[ea«uA  fact,  have  a  tendency  on  one 
hand  to  make  us  feel  for  .the  jllrsons  afflicted,  and  on  the  other 


i* 


1 


\ 


■^* 


i  II 


,^: 


336 


REV.  JOHN  COEBLY'S  NARRATIVE. 


i 


to  impress  our  hearts  with  gratitude  to  the  Sovereign  Disposer 
of  all  events  for  that  emancipation  which  the  United  States 
have  experienced  from  the  haugh^^  claims  of  Britain — a  pow- 
er, at  that  time,  so  lost  to  every  human  affection,  that,  rather 
than  not  subdue  and  make  us  slaves,  they  basely  chose  to 
encourage,  "'•^ronize  and  reward,  as  their  most  faithful  and 
beloved  all"  the  savages  of  the  wilderness;  who,  without 
discriminal.  •.,  barbarously  massacred  the  industrious  husband- 
man, the  supplicating  female,  the  prattling  child  and  tender 
infant,  vainly  sheltered  within  the  encircling  arms  of  maternal 
fondness.  Such  transactions,  as  they  come  to  our  knowledge 
well  authenticated,  ought  to  be  recorded,  that  our  posterity  may 
not  be  ignorant  of  what  their  ancestors  underwent  at  the  try- 
inoj)eriod  of  our  national  exertions  for  American  independence. 
The  following  account  was,  at  my  request,  drawn  up  by  the 
unfortunate  sufierer.  Respecting  tne  author,  suffice  it  to  say, 
that  he  is  an  ordained  minister  of  the  Baptist  faith  and  order, 
and  held  in  high  estimation  by  all  our  associated  churches. 

I  am,  sir,  yours,  &c., 

William  Rogers. 


iris: 


«su 


,^h  Muddy  Creek,  Washington  County,  July  8,  1785. 


Diear  Sir, — The  following  is  a  just  and  true  account  of  the 
tragical  scene  of  my  family's  falling  by  the  savages,  which  I 
related  when  at  your  house  in  Philadelphia,  and  you  requested 
me  to  forward  in  writing. 

On  the  second  Sabbath  in  May,  in  the  year  178i?,  being  my 
appointment  at  one  of  my  meeting-houses  about  a  mile  from 
my  dwelling-house,  I  set  out  with  my  dear  wife  and  five  chil- 
dren, for  public  worship.  ""Not  suspecting  any  danger,  I  walked' 
behind  two  hundred  yards,  with  my  Bible  in  my  hand,  medi- 
tating ;  as  I  was  thus  employed,  all  on  a  sudden  I  was  greatly 
alarmed  with  the  frightful  shrieks  of  my  dear  family  before  me. 
I  immediately  ran  with  all  the  speed  I  could,  vainly  hunting  a 
club  as  r  ran,  till  I  got  within  forty  yards  of  them.  My  poor 
wife,  seeing  me,  cried  to  me  to  make  my  escape ;  an  Indian 
ran  up  to  shoot  me.  I  had  to  strip,  and  by  so  doing  outran 
him.  My  dear  wife  had  a  sucking  child  in  her  arms ;  this 
little  infant  they  killed  and  scalped.  They  then  struck  my 
wife  at  sundry  times,  but  not  getting  her  down,  the  Indian  who 
had  aimed  to  shoot  me  ran  to,  her,  shot  her  through  the  body, 
and  scalped  her.  My  little  boj^W  only  son,  about  six  j^e^rs 
old,  they  sunk  the  hatchet  into  hi^^sjbrains,  and  thus  dis|parched 
him.  A  daughter,  besides  tlA  inflmt,  they  also  killed  and' 
" "  st  daughte",  tmo  is  yet  alive,  was  hid  in  a* 


%,      scalped.     My  eldest  daughtc 


«      ♦. 


jposeT 
Staves 
.  pow- 
rather 
Dse  to 
il  and 
rithout 
sband- 
tender 
iternal 
kvledge 
ty  may 
he  try- 
idence. 
by  the 
to  say, 
I  order, 

IBS. 


BEV.  JOHN  CORBLY'S  NARRATIVE. 


337 


•ing  my 
lie  froini 
Ive  chil- 

walked 
medi*- 

greatly 
[bre  me. 
inting  a 

[y  poor 
Indian 
outran 

is;  this 

ick  my 
lian  who 

le  body, 
lix  jretrs 
^parched 

[led  and 

Ihid  in  a- 


tree  about  twenty  yards  from  the  place  wiiere  the  rest  were 
killed,  and  saw  the  whole  proceedings.  She,  seeing  the  In- 
dians all  go  off,  as  she  thought,  got  up  and  deliberately  crept 
out  from  the  hollow  trunk ;  but  one  of  them  espying  her,  ran 
hastily  up,  knocked  her  down  and  scalped  her ;  also  her  only 
surviving  sister,  on  whose  head  they  did  not  leave  more  than 
one  inch  round,  either  r''  flesh  or  skin,  besides  taking  a  piece 
out  of  her  skull.  She  and  the  before-mentioned  one  are  still 
miraculously  preserved,  though,  as  you  must  think,  I  have  had, 
and  still  have,  a  great  deal  of  trobble  and  expense  with  them, 
besides  anxiety  about  them,  insomuch  that  I  am,  as  to  worldly 
circumstances,  almost  ruined.  I  am  yet  in  hopes  of  seeing 
them  cured ;  they  still,  blessed  be  God,  retain  their  senses,  not- 
withstanding the  painful  operations  they  have  already  and  must 
yet  pass  through.  At  the  time  I  ran  round  to  see  what  was 
become  of  my  family,  and  found  my  dear  and  affectionate  wife 
with  five  children  all  scalped  in  less  than  ibn  minutes  from  the 
first  outset.  No  one,  my  dear  brother,  can  conceive  how  I  felt ; 
this  you  may  well  suppose  was  killing  to  me.  I  instantly 
fainted  away,  and  was  borne  off  by  a  friend,  who  by  this  time 
had  found  us  out.  When  I  recovered,  oh  the  anguish  of  my 
soul !  I  cried,  would  to  God  I  had  died  for  them  !  would  to 
God  I  had  died  with  them !  O  how  dark  and  mysterious  did 
this  trying  providence  then  appear  to  me !  but — 

'  Why  should  I  grieve,  when,  grieving,  I  must  bear  ? " 

This,  dear  sir,  is  a  faithful,  though  short  narrative  of  that 
fatal  catastrophe ;  and  my  life  amidst  it  all,  for  what  purpose 
Jehovah  only  knows,  redeemed  from  surrounding  death.  Oh, 
may  I  spend  it  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  his  grace,  who  work- 
eth  all  things  after  the  council  of  his  own  will.  The  govern- 
ment of  the  world  and  of  the  church  is  in  his  hands.  May  it 
be  taught  the  important  lesson  of  acquiescing  in  all  his  dispen- 
sations. I  conclude  with  wishing  you  every  blessing,  and 
subscribe  myself  your  affectionate,  though  afflicted  friend  and. 
unworthy  brother  in  the  gospel  ministry, 

JOHN  CORBLY. 


•* 


! 


i 


'*. 


«!. 


29 


m 


l 


) 


li 


•i^'Sa- 


338 


A  TRUE  AND  WONDERFUL  NARRATIVE  OP  THE  SURPRISING 
CAPTIVITY  AND  REMARKABLE  DELIVERANCE  OP  MRS. 
FRANCIS  SCOTT,  AN  INHABITANT  OP  WASHINGTON  COUN- 
TV,  \IRaiNIA,  V^THO  WAS  TAKEN  BY  THE  INDIANS  ON  THE 
EVENING  OF  THE  29th  OP  JUNE,  1786. 

On  Wednesday,  the  29th  day  of  June,  1785,  late  in  the 
evening,  a  large  company  of  armed  men  passed  the  house  on 
their  way  to  Kentucky,  some  part  of  whom  encamped  within 
two  miles.  Mr.  Scott's  living  on  a  frontier  part  generally  made 
the  family  watchful ;  but  on  this  calamitous  day,  after  so  large 
a  body  of  men  had  passed,  he  lay  down  in  his  bed,  and  im- 
prudently left  one  of  the  doors  of  his  house  open ;  the  children 
were  also  in  bed  and  asleep.  Mrs.  Scott  was  nearly  undressed, 
when,  to  her  unutterable  astonishment  and  horror,  she  saw 
rushing  in  through  the  door,  that  was  left  open,  painted  sa- 
vages, with  their  arms  presented  at  the  same  time,  raising  a 
hideous  shriek.  Mr.  Scott,  being  awake,  instantly  jumped 
from  his  bed,  and  was  immediately  fired  at.  He  forced  his 
way  through  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  and  got  out  of  the  house, 
but  fell  a  few  paces  from  the  door.  An  Indian  seized  Mrs. 
Scott,  and  ordered  her  to  a  particular  place,  charging  her  not  to 
move.  Others  stabbed  and  cut  the  throats  of  the  three  young- 
est children  in  their  bed,  and  afterwards  lifted  them  up,  and 
dashed  them  on  the  floor  near  their  mother.  The  eldest,  a 
beautiful  girl,  eight  years  of  age,  awoke,  and  jumping  out  of 
bed,  ran  to  her  mother,  and  with  the  most  plaintive  accents 
cried,  "  O  mamma !  mamma !  save  me ! "  The  mother,  in  the 
deepest  anguish  of  spirit,  and  with  a  flood  of  tears,  entreated 
the  Indians  to  spare  her*  life ;  but,  with  that  awfully  revolting 
brutality,  they  tomahawked  and  stabbed  her  in  her  mother's 
arms ! ! 

;  Adjacent  to  Mr.  Scott's  dwelling-house  another  family  lived 
of  the  name  of  Ball.  The  Indians  also  attacked  them  at  the 
same  time,  but  the  door  being  shut,  they  fired  into  the  house 
through  an  opening  between  the  logs  which  composed  its 
walls,  and  killed  a^  lad,  and  then  essayed  to  force  open  the 
door ;  but  a  brother' of  the  \ad  which  had  been  shot  down  fired 
at  the  Indians  |^rough  the  door,  and  they  relinquished  the 
attack.  In  the  mean  time  the  remaining  part^f  the  family  ran 
out  of  the  house  and  escaped.     i:g5( 

In  the  house  of  Mr.  Scott  were  fijur  good  rifles,  well  loaded, 
belonging  to  people  that  had  left  tnelh  as  they  were  going  to 
Kentucky.    The  Indians,  thirteeli  in  number,  seized  these,  and 


t>(' 


-ii.^ 'Jt. 


,jr    .  . 


'■■f^'rTf^vt-r'in^ 


Eiisma 

i<  MRS. 
COUN- 
NTHE 


in  the 

ouse  on 

[  within 

ly  made 

so  large 

and  im- 

children 

dressed, 

she  saw 

inted  sa- 

■aising  a 
;'umped 

>-cced  his 

le  house, 

zed  Mrs. 

er  not  to 

i  young- 
up,  and 

eldest,  a 
g  out  of 
i  accents 
er,  in  the 
jntreated 
revolting 
mother's 

lily  lived 
im  at  the 
le  house 
josed  its 
lopen  the 
bwn  fired 
[shed  the 
Imily  ran 

^  loaded, 
going  to 
lese,  and 


MRS.  SCOTT'S  CAPTIVITY. 


339 


all  the  plunder  they  could  lay  their  hands  on  besides,  and 
hastily  began  a  retreat  into  the  wilderness.  It  was  now  late 
in  the  evening,  and  they  travelled  all  the  following  night. 
The  next  morning,  June  the  30th,  the  chief  of  the  party 
allotted  to  each  of  his  followers  his  share  of  the  plunder  and 
prisoners,  at  the  same  time  detaching  nine  of  his  party  to  go 
on  a  horse-stealing  expedition  on  Clinch  river. 

The  eleventh  day  after  Mrs.  Scon's  captivity,  four  Indians 
that  had  her  in  charge  stopped  at  a  place  fixed  on  for  rendez- 
vous, and  to  hunt,  being  now  in  great  want  of  provisions. 
Three  of  these  four  set  out  on  the  hunting  expedition,  leaving 
their  chief,  an  old  man,  to  take  care  of  the  prisoner,  who  now 
had,  to  all  appearances,  become  reconciled  to  her  situation, 
nnd  expressed  a  willingness  to  proceed  to  the  Indian  towns, 
which  seemed  to  have  the  desired  effect  of  lessening  her 
keeper's  watchfulness.  In  the  daytime,  while  the  old  man 
was  graining  a  deer-skin,  Mrs.  Scott,  pondering  on  her  situa- 
tion, began  anxiously  to  look  for  an  opportunity  to  make  an 
escape.  At  length,  having  matured  her  resolution  in  her  own 
mind  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  object,  the  first  opportunity 
she  goes  to  the  old  chief  with  great  confidence,  and  in  the  most 
disinterested  manner  asked  him  for  liberty  to  go  to  a  small 
stream,  a  little  distance  off,  to  wash  the  blood  from  her  apron, 
that  had  remained  upon  it  since  the  fatal  night,  caused  by  the 
murder  of  her  child  in  her  arms,  before  related.  He  replied, 
in  the  English  tongue,  "  go  along."  She  then  passed  by  him, 
his  face  being  in  a  contrary  direction  from  that  she  was  going, 
and  he  very  busy  in  dressing  his  skin,  passed  on,  seemingly 
unnoticed  by  him; 

After  arriving  at  the  water,  instead  of  stopping  to  wash  her 
apron,  as  she  pretended,  she  proceeded  on  without  a  moment's 
delay.  She  laid  her  course  for  a  high  barren  mountain  which 
was  in  sight,  and  travelled  until  late  at  night,  when  she  came 
down  into  the  valley  in  search  of  the  track  she  had  been  taken 
along  in  by  the  Indians  a  few  days  before,  hoping  thereby  to 
find  the  way  back  to  the  settlement  without  the  imminent  peril, 
which  now  surrounded  her,  of  being  lost  and  perishing  with 
hunger  in  this  unknown  region. 

On  coming  across  the  valley  to  the  side  of  a  river  which 
skirted  it,  supposed  to  be  the  easterly  branch  of  Kentucky 
river,  she  observed  in  the  sand  tracks  of  two  men  that  had 
gone  up  the  i^er,  and  had  just  returned.  She  concluded 
these  to  have  Been  her  pursuers,  which  excited  in  her  breast 
emotions  of  gratitude  an4  thankfulness  to  divine  Providence 
for  so  timely  a  deliverance.  Being  without  any  provisions, 
having  no  kind  of  weapon  or  tool  to  assist  her  in  getting  any, 


.>:^ 


1 


^*«e- 


•^ 


^ 


340 


MBS.  SCOTT'S  CAPTIVITY. 


( 


I, 


and  almost  destitute  of  clothing;  also  knowing  that  a  vast 
tract  of  rugged  hiu^h  mountains  intervened  between  where  she 
was  and  the  inhabitants  easterly,  and  she  almost  as  ignorant 
as  a  child  of  the  method  of  steering  through  the  woods,  excited 
painful  sensaWons.  But  certain  dpath,  either  by  hunger  or 
wild  beasts,  seemed  to  be  better  than  to  be  in  the  power  of 
beings  who  excited  in  her  mind  such  horror.  She  addressed 
Heaven,  and  taking  courage,  proceeded  onward. 

After  travelling  three  days,  she  had  nearly  met  with  the 
Indians,  as  she  supposed,  that  had  been  sent  to  Clinch  river  to 
steal  horses,  but  providentially  hearing  their  approach,  con- 
cealed herself  among  the  cane  until  they  had  passed  by  her. 
This  giving  her  a  fresh  alarm,  and  her  mind  being  filled  with 
consternation,  she  got  lost,  proceeded  backwards  and  forwards 
for  several  days.  At  length  she  came  to  a  river  that  seemed 
to  come  from  the  east.  Concluding  it  was  Sandy  river,  she 
accordingly  resolved  to  trace  it  to  its  source,  which  is  adjacent 
to  the  Clinch  settlement.  After  proceeding  up  the  same 
several  days  she  came  to  the  point  where  it  runs  through  the 
great  Laurel  mountain,  where  there  is  a  prodigious  waterfall 
and  high  craggy  cliffs  along  the  water's  edge ;  that  way  seemed 
impassable,  the  mountain  steep  and  difficult;  however,  our 
mournful  traveller  concluded  the  latter  way  was  best.  She 
therefore  ascended  for  some  time,  but  coming  to  a  lofty  range 
of  inaccessible  rocks,  she  turned  her  course  towards  the  foot 
of  the  mountain  arid  the  river-side.  After  getting  into  a  deep 
gully,  and  passing  over  several  high  steep  rocks,  she  reached 
the  river-side,  where,  to  her  inexpressible  affliction,  she  found 
that  a  perpendicular  rock,  or  rather  one  th^t  hung  over,  to 
the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  formed  the  bank.  Here  a 
solemn  pause  ensued.  She  essayed  to  return,  but  the  height 
of  the  steeps  and  rocks  she  had  descended  over  prevented  her. 
She  then  returned  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  and  viewing 
the  bottom  of  it  as  the  certain  spot  to  end  all  her  troubles,  or 
remain  on  the  top  to  pine  away  with  hunger,  or  be  devoured 
by  wild  beasts. 

After  serious  meditation  and  devout  exercises,  she  deter- 

,    mined  on  leaping  from  the  height,  and  accordingly  jumped 

off.     Now,  although^  the  place  she  had  to  alight  upon  was 

covered  with  uneven  rocks,  not  a  bone  was  broken,  but  beii'ig 

exceedingly  stunned  by  the  fall,  she  remained  unable  to  pro- 

*  ceed  for  some  time.  "* 

The  dry  season  had  caused  the  river  to  be  shallow.  She 
travelled  in  it,  and,  where  she  could,  by  its  edge,  until  she  got 
through  the  mountain,  which  she  thought  was  several  miles. 
After  this,  as  she  was  travelling  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  a 


I  vast 
re  she 
lorant 
xcited 
ret  or 
ver  of 
resscd 

th  the 

iver  to 

I,  con- 

yy  her. 

d  with 

rwards 

seemed 

er,  she 

djacent 

;  same 

igh  the 

aterfall 

seemed 

rer,  our 

[.     She 

y  range 

the  foot 
a  deep 

reached 

e  found 
>veT,  to 
Here  a 
!  height 
ed  her. 
riewing 

Jbles,  or 
jvoured 

deter- 
Ijumped 
Ion  was 
U  being 
to  pro- 
She 
I  she  got 
milee. 
I  river,  a 


MRS.  SCOTT'S  CAPTIVITY. 


341 


venomous  snake  bit  her  on  the  ankle.  She  had  strength  to 
kill  it,  and  knowing  its  kind,  concluded  death  must  soon  over- 
take her.  < 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Scott  was  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton 
with  fatigue,  hunger,  and  grief.  Probably  this  reduced  state 
of  her  system  saved  her  from  the  efTects  of  the  poison  fangs  of 
the  snake ;  be  that  as  it  may,  so  it  was,  that  very  little  pain 
succeeded  the  bite,  and  what  little  swelling  there  was  fell  into 
her  feet. 

Our  wanderer  now  left  the  river,  and  after  proceeding  a 
good  distance  she  came  to  where  the  valley  parted  into  two, 
each  leading  a  difierent  course.  Here  a  painful  suspense  took 
place  again.  How  truly  forlorn  was  now  the  case  of  this  poor 
woman !  almost  ready  to  sink  down  from  exhaustion,  who 
had  now  the  only  prospect  left  that,  either  in  the  right  or 
wrong  direction,  her  remaining  strength  could  not  carry  her 
long,  nor  but  very  little  way,  and  she  began  to  despair — and 
who  would  not— of  ever  again  beholding  the  face  of  any  human 
creature.  But  the  most  awful  and  seemingly  certain  dangers 
are  sometimes  providentially  averted. 

While  her  mind  was  thus  agitated,  a  beautiful  bird  passed 
close  by  her,  fluttering  slowly  along  near  the  ground,  and  very 
remarkably  took  its  course  onward  in  one  of  the  vaiieys  before 
spoken  of.  This  drew  her  attention,  and,  while  pondering 
upon  what  it  might' mean,  another  bird  like  the  first,  in  the 
same  manner,  passed  by  her,  and  followed  the  same  valley. 
She  now  took  it  ~  for  granted  that  this  was  her  course  also ; 
and,  wonderful  to  relate,  in  two  days  after  she  had  wandered 
in  sight  of  the  settlement  on  Clinch  river,  called  New  Garden. 
Thus,  in  the  thfrd  month  of  her  captivity,  she  was  unexpect- 
edly though  joyfully  relieved  from  the  dreadful  impending  death 
by  famine.  But  had  she  taken  the  other  valley,  she  never 
could  have  returned.  The  day  of  her  arrival  at  New  Garden 
was  August  lllh. 

Mrs.  Scott  relates  that  the  Indians  told  her  that  thej)arty 
v    ^1  whom  she  was  a  captive  was  composed  of  four  different 
nations ;  two  of  whom,  she  thinks,  were  Delawares  and  Min- 
goes.     She  further  relates  that,  during  a  full  month  of  her  ■ 
wanderings,  viz.  from  July  10th  to  August  11th,  she  had  no 
other  food  to  subsist  upon  but  whjit  she  derived  from  chewing 
and  swallowing  the  juice  of  young  cane  stalks,  sassafras  leaves, 
and  some  other  plants  of  which  she  knew  not  the  names ;  that  m 
on  her  journey  she  saw  buflaloes,  elks,  deers,  and  frequently 
bears  and  wolves,  not  one  of  which,  although  some  passed  very  ^ 
near  her,  offered  her  the  least  harm.     One  day  a  bear  came 
near  her  with  a  young  fawn  in  his  mouth,  and  on  discovering 
29* 


%■! 


342 


CAFT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


her  he  dropped  his  prey  and  ran  oflf.     Prompted  by  the  keen 

Eangs  of  hunger,  she  advanced  to  seize  upon  it,  but  fearing  the 
Bar  might  return,  she  turned  away  in  despair,  and  pursued 
her  course ;  thus  sparing  her  feelings,  naturally  averse  to  raw 
flesh,  at  the  expense  of  increasing  hunger. 

Mrs.  Scott  continues**  in  a  low  state  of  health,  ind  remains 
unconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her  family,  particularly  bewailing 
*he  cruel  death  of  her  little  daughter. 


A    NARRATIVE 

OP  THE  DESPERATE  ENCOUNTER  AND  ESCAPE  OP  CAPT.  WM. 

..  HUBBELL  PROM  THE  INDIANS  WHILE  DESCENDING  THE 
OHIO  RIVER  IN  A  BOAT  WITH  OTHERS,  IN  THE  YEAR  1791. 
Originally  set  forth  in  the  Western  Review,  and  afterwards  republished  by 
Dr.  Metcalf,.in  his  "Narxatives. of  Indian  Warfare  in  the  West." 

In  the  year  1791,  while  the  Indians  were  yet  troublesome, 

especially  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  Capt.  William  Hubbell, 

(■  who  had  previously  emigrated  to  Kentucky  from  the  state  of 

Vermont,  and  who,  after  having  fixed  his  family  in  the  neigh- 

*At  the  time  the  original  narrative  was  written.    It  was  printed  in 
1786.— Ed. 


^ 


he  keen 
ring  the 
pursued 
)  to  raw 

remains 
)  wailing 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE, 


343 


>T.  WM. 

fG  THB 
UR  1791. 
pushed  by 


|i1esome, 

[ubbell, 

I  state  of 

neigh' 


ed  in 


borhood  of  Frankfort,  then  a  frontier  settlement,  had  been  com- 
pelled to  go  to  the  eastward  on  business,  was  now  a  second 
time  on  his  way  to  this  country.  On  one  of  the  tributary 
streams  of  the  Monongahela,  he  procured  a  flat-bottomed  boat, 
and  embarked  in  company  with  Mr.  Daniel  Light  and  Mr. 
Wm.  Plascut  and  his  family,  consisting  of  a  wife  and  eight 
children,  destined  for  Limestone,  Kentucky. 

On  their  passage  down  the  river,  and  soon  after  passing 
Pittsburgh,  they  saw  evident  traces  of  Indians  along  the  banks, 
and  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  a  boat  which  they 
overtook,  and  which,  through  carelessness,  was  suffered  to  run 
aground  on  an  island,  became  a  prey  to  the  e  merciless  sa- 
vages. Though  Capt.  Hubbell  and  his  parly  stopped  {ome 
time  for  it  in  a  lower  part  of  the  river,  it  did  not  arrive,  and  it 
has  never,  to  their  knowledge,  been  heard  of. 

Before  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  great  Kenhawa  they 
had,  by  several  successive  additions,  increased  their  number  to 
twenty  persons,  consisting  of  nine  men,  three  women,  ami 
eight  children.  The  men,  besides  those  mentioned  ^bove, 
were  one  John  Storer,  an  Irishman  and  a  Dutchmaii  w/!ose 
names  are  not  recollected,  Messrs.  Ray  and  Tucker,  and  a  Mr. 
Kilpatrick,  whose  two  daughters  also  were  of  the  party.  In- 
formation received  at  Galliopolis  confirmed  the  expectation, 
which  appearances  had  previously  raised,  of  a  serious  conflict 
with  a  large  body  of  Indians ;  and  as  Capt.  Hubbell  had  been 
regularly  appointed  commander  of  the  boat,  every  possible 
preparation  was  made  for  a  formidable  and  successful  resist- 
ance of  the  anticipated  attack.  The  nine  men  were  divided 
into  three  watches  for  the  night,  which  were  alternately  to 
continue  awake,  and  be  on  the  lookout  for  two  hours  at  a  time. 

The  arms  on  board,  which  consisted  principally  of  old  mus- 
kets much  out  of  order,  were  collected,  put  vt  f'le  best  possible 
condition  for  service,  and  loaded.  At  abuu!.  sunset  on  that 
day,  the  23d  of  March,  1791,  our  party  overtook  a  fleet  of  six 
boats  descending  the  river  in  company-  and  intended  to  have 
continued  with  them;  but  as  their  passengers  seemed  to  be 
more  disposed  to  dancing  than  flgating,  and  as,  soon  after 
dark,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of  Capt.  Hubbell, 
they  commenced  fiddling  and  drinking,  instead  of  preparing 
their  arms  and  taking  the  necessary  rest  preparatory  to  battle, 
it  was  wisely  considered,  by  Capt.  Hubbell  and  his  company, 
far  more  hazardous  to  have  such  companions  than  to  proceed 
alone.  Hence  it  was  determined  to  press  rapidly  forward  by 
aid  of  (he  oars,  and  to  leave  those  thoughtless  fellow-travellers 
behind.  One  of  the  boats,  however,  belonging  to  the  fleet, 
commanded  by  a  Capt.  Greathouse,  adopted  the  same  plan. 


I 


I 


■  .0 


344 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


\  -i: 


and  for  a  while  kept  up  with  Capt.  Hubbell,  but  all  its  crew  at 
length  falling  asleep,  that  boat  also  ceased  to  be  propelled  by 
the  oars,  and  Capt.  Hubbell  and  his  party  proceeded  steadily 
forward  alone.  Early  in  the  night  a  canoe  was  dimly  seen 
floating  down  the  river,  in  which  were  probably  Indians  recon- 
noitering,  and  other  evident  indications  were  observed  of  the 
neighborhood  and  hostile  intentions  of  a  formidable  party  of 


savages. 


It  was  now  agreed  that  should  the  attack,  as  was  probable, 
be  deferred  till  morning,  every  man  should  be  up  before  the 
dawn,  in  order  to  make  as  great  a  show  as  possible  of  numbers 
and  of  strength ;  and  that,  whenevei  the  action  should  take 
place,  the  women  and  children  should  lie  down  on  the  cabin 
floor,  and  be  protected  as  well  as  they  could  by  the  trunks  and 
other  baggage,  which  might  be  placed  around  them.  In  this 
perilous  situation  they  continued  during  the  night,  and  the  cap- 
tain, who  had  not  slept  more  than  one  hour  since  he  left  Pitts- 
burgh, was  too  deeply  impressed  with  the  imminent  danger 
which  surrounded  tnem  to  obtain  any  rest  at  that  time. 

Just  as  daylight  began  to  appear  in  the  east,  and  before  the 
men  were  up  and  at  their  posts  agreeably  to  arrangement, a  voice, 
at  some  distance  below  them,  in  a  plaintive  tone,  repeatedly 
solicited  them  to  come  on  shore,  as  there  were  some  white 
persons  who  wished  to  obtain  a  passage  in  their  boat.  This 
the  captain  very  naturally  and  correctly  concluded  to  be  an 
Indian  artifice,  and  its  only  effect  was  to  rouse  the  men,  and 
place  f  ery  one  on  his  guard.  The  voice  of  entreaty  was  soon 
changed  into  the  language  of  indignation  and  insult,  and  the. 
sound  of  distant  paddles  announced  the  savage  foe.  At  length 
three  Indian  canoes  were  seen  through  the  mist  of  the 
morning,  rapidly  advancing.  With  the  utmost  coolness  the 
captain  and  his  companions  prepared  to  receive  them.  The 
chairs,  tables,  and  other  incumbrances  were  thrown  into  the 
river,  in  order  to  clear  the  deck  for  action.  Every  man  took 
his  position,  and  was  ordered  not  to  fire  till  the  savages  had 
approached  so  near  that,  (to  use  the  words  of  Capt.  Hubbell,) 
"  the  flash  from  the  guns  might  singe  their  eyebrows ;"  and  a 
special  caution  was  given  that  the  men  should  fire  successively, 
80  that  there  might  be  no  interval. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  canoes,  they  were  found  to  contain 
about  twenty-five  or  thirty  Indians  each.  As  soon  as  they  had 
approached  within  the  reach  of  musket-shot,  a  general  fire  was 
given  from  one  of  them,  which  wounded  Mr.  Tucker  through 
the  hip  so  severely  that  his  leg  hung  only  by  the  fl«m,  and 
shot  Mr.  Light  just  below  his  ribs.  The  three  canoes  placed 
themselves  at  the  bow,  stern,  and  on  the  right  side  of  the  boat, 


J>ito,- 


M. 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


34A 


so  that  they  had  an  opportunity  of  raking  in  every  direction. 
The  fire  now  commenced  from  the  boat,  and  had  a  powerful 
efTect  in  checking  the  confidence  and  fury  of  the  Indiana.  The 
captain,  after  firing  his  own  gun,  took  up  that  of  one  of  the 
wounded  men,  raised  it  to  his  shoulder,  and  was  about  to  dis- 
charge it,  when  a  ball  came  and  took  away  the  lock  of  it.  He 
coolly  turned  around,  seized  a  brand  of  fire  from  the  kettle 
which  had  served  for  a  caboose,  and  applying  it  to  the  pan, 
discharged  the  piece  with  effect.  A  very  regular  and  constant 
fire  was  now  kept  up  on  both  sides.  The  captain  was  just  in 
the  act  of  raising  his  gun  a  third  time,  when  a  ball  passed 
through  his  right  arm,  and  for  a  moment  disabled  him. 
Scarcely  had  he  recovered  from  the  shock,  and  re-acquiied  the 
use  of  his  hand,  which  had  been  suddenly  drawn  up  by  the 
wound,  when  he  observed  the  Indians  in  one  of  the  canoes  just 
about  to  board  the  boat  in  the  bow,  where  the  horses  were 
placed  belonging  to   the  company.     So   near  had  they  ap- 

Eroached,  that  some  of  them  had  actually  seized  with  their 
ands  the  side  of  the  boat.  Severely  wounded  as  he  was, 
he  caught  up  a  pair  of  horseman's  pistols  and  rushed  forward 
to  repel  the  attempt  at  boarder-  On  his  approach  the  Indians 
fell  back,  and  he  discharge(Pqne  of  the  pistols  with  effect  at 
the  foremost  man.  After  firing  the  second  pistol,  he  found 
himself  with  useless  arms,  and  was  compelled  to  retreat;  but 
stepping  back  upon  a  pile  of  small  wood  which  had  been  pre-  - 
pared  for  burning  in  the  kettle,  the  thought  struck  him  that  it 
might  be  made  use  of  in  repelling  the  foe,  and  he  continued 
for  some  time  to  strike  with  it  so  forcibly  and  actively  that 
they  were  unable  to  enter  the  boat,  and  at  length  he  wounded 
one  of  them  so  severely  that  with  a  yell  they  suddenly  gave 
way. 

All  the  canoes  instantly  discontinued  the  contest,  and  di- 
rected their  course  to  Capt.  Greathouse's  boat,  w^hich  was  then 
in  sight.  Here  a  striking  contrast  was  exhibited  to  the  firm- 
ness and  intrepidity  which  had  just  been  displayed.  Instead 
of  resisting  the  attack,  the  people  on  board  of  that  boat  retired 
to  the  cabin  in  dismay.  The  Indians  entered  it  without  oppo- 
sition, and  rowed  it  to  the  shore,  where  they  instantly  killed 
the  captain  and  a  lad  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age.  The 
women  they  placed  in  the  centre  of  their  canoes,  and  manning 
them  with  fresh  hands,  again  pursued  Capt.  Hubbell.  A 
melancholy  alternative  now  presented  itself  to  these  brave  but 
almost  desponding  men,  either  to  fall  a  prey  to  the  savages 
themselves,  or  to  run  the  risk  of  shooting  the  women  who  had 
been  placed  in  the  canoes  in  the  hope  of  deriving  protection 
from  their  presence.    But  "self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of 


'V 
I 

f 


■ii, 


11 

■rj 

V 


;i^--,-: 


f 


i 


\ 


846 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


8-    ) 


nature,"  and  the  captain  very  justly  remarked  "that  dwiM 
would  not  be  much  humanity  in  preserving  their  lives  Ai^'IftfeH 
a  sacrifice,  merely  that  they  might  become  victims  o("^i!^ii^^ 
cruelty  at  some  subsequent  period."  "v.-. 

There  were  now  but  four  men  left  on  board  of  Capt.  Hu.b- 
bell's  boat  capable  of  defending  it,  and  the  captain  himself 
was  severely  wounded  in  two  places.  The  second  attack, 
nevertheless,  was  resisted  with  almost  incredible  firmness  and 
vigor.  Whenever  the  Indians  would  rise  to  fire,  their  oppo- 
nents would  commonly  give  them  the  first  shot,  which,  in 
almop.t  every  instance,  would  prove  fatal.  Notwithstanding 
the  disparity  of  numbers,  and  the  exhausted  condition  of  the 
defenders  of  the  boat,  the  Indians  at  length  appeared  to  des- 
pair  of  success,  and  the  canoes  successively  returned  to  the 
shore.  Just  as  the  last  one  was  departing,  Capt.  Hubbell 
called  to  the  Indian  who  was  standing  in  the  stern,  and,  on  his 
turning  round,  discharged  his  piece  at  him.  When  the  smoke, 
which  for  a  moment  obscured  their  vision,  was  dissipated,  he 
was  seen  lying  on  his  back,  and  appeared  to  be  severely 
wounded,  perhaps  mortally.    ><i^,,  ''^Wi' 

Unfortunately,  the  boat  now  drifted  near  to  the  shore,  where 
the  Indians  had  collected,  and  a  large  concourse,  probably 
between  four  and  five  hundred,  were  seen  running  down  on 
the  bank.  Ray  and  Plascut,  the  only  men  remaining  unhurt, 
were  placed  at  the  oars ;  and  as  the  boat  was  not  more  than 
twenty  yards  from  the  shore,  it  was  deemed  prudent  for  all  to 
lie  down  in  as  safe  a  position  as  possible,  and  attempt  to  push 
forward  with  the  utmost  practicable  rapidity.  While  they 
continued  in  this  situation,  nine  balls  were  shot  into  one  oar, 
and  ten  into  another,  without  wounding  the  rowers,  who  were 
hid  from  view  and  protected  by  the  side  of  the  boat  and  blank- 
ets in  the  stern.  During  this  dreadful  exposure  to  the  fire  of 
the  savages,  which  continued  about  twenty  minutes,  Mr.  Kil- 
patrick  observed  a  particular  Indian,  whom  he  thought  a 
favorable  mark  for  his  rifle,  and,  notwithstanding  the  solemn 
warning  of  Capt.  Hubbell,  rose  up  to  shoot  him.  He  imme- 
diately received  a  ball  in  his  mouth,  which  passed  out  at  the 
back  part  of  his  head,  and  was  also,  almost  at  the  same  instant, 
shot  through  the  heart.  He  fell  down  among  the  horses  that 
were  about  the  same  time  shot  down  likewise  ;  and  thus  was 
presented  to  his  afflicted  daughters  and  fellow-travellers,  who 
were  witnesses  of  the  awful  occurrence,  a  spectacle  of  horror 
which  we  need  not  further  attempt  to  "describe.  -^ 

The  boat  was  now  providentially  and  suddenly  earned  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  taken  by  the  current  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  enemy's  balls.     Our  little  bcuad,  reduced 


^■.. 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


347 


08  they  were  in  numbers,  wounded,  afflicted,  and  almost  ex- 
hausted by  fatigue,  were  still  unsubdued  in  spirit,  and  being 
assembled  in  all  their  strength,  men,  women,  and  children, 
with  an  appearance  of  triumph,  gave  three  hearty  cheers, 
calling  the  Indians  to  come  on  again  if  they  were  fond  of 
sport. 

Thus  ended  this  awful  conflict,  in  which,  out  of  nine  men, 
two  only  escaped  unhurt.  Tucker  and  Kilpatric  were  killed 
on  the  spot,  Storer  was  mortally  wounded,  and  died  on  his 
arrival  at  Limestone,  and  all  the  rest,  excepting  Ray  and  Plas- 
cut,  were  severely  wounded.  The  women  and  children  were 
all  uninjured,  except  a  little  son  of  Mr.  Plascut,  who,  after  the 
battle  was  over,  came  to  the  captain,  and  with  great  coolness 
requested  him  to  take  a  ball  out  of  his  head.  On  examination 
it  appeared  that  a  bullet,  which  had  passed  through  the  side 
of  the  boat,  had  penetrated  the  forehead  of  this  little  hero, 
and  remained  under  the  skin.  The  captain  took  it  out,  and  sup- 
posing this  was  all,  as  in  good  reason  he  might,  was  about  to 
bestow  his  attentiv/U  on  some  other  momentous  affair,  when  the 
little  boy  observed,  "  That  is  not  all,  captain,"  and  raisin(r  his 
arm,  exhibited  a  piece  of  bone  at  the  point  of  his  elbow,  which 
had  been  shot  ofl,  and  hung  only  by  the  skin.  His  mother,  to 
whom  the  whole  affair  seems  before  to  have  been  unknown, 
but  being  now  present,  exclaimed,  "  Why  did  you  not  tell  me 
of  this  ?  "  "  Because,"  replied  the  son,  "  the  captain  ordered 
us  to  be  silent  during  the  fight,  and  I  thought  you  would  make 
a  noise  if  I  told  you  of  it." 

The  boat  made  the  best  of  its  way  down  the  river,  ancl  the 
object  was  to  reach  Limestone  that  night.  The  captain's  arm 
had  bled  profusely,  and  he  was  compelled  to  qlose  the  sleeve 
of  his  coat  in  order  to  retain  the  blood  and  stop  its  effusion. 

In  this  situation,  tormented  by  excruciating  pain,  and  faint 
through  loss  of  blood,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  steering 
the  boat  with  his  left  arm  till  about  ten  o'clock  that  night, 
when  he  was  relieved  by  Mr.  Wm.  Brooks,  who  resided  on 
the  bank  of  the  river,  and  who  was  induced  by  the  calls  of  the 
sufiering  party  to  come  out  to  their  assistance.  By  his  aid, 
and  that  of  some  other  persons  who  were  in  the  same  manner 
b^o'ight  to  their  relief,  they  were  enabled  to  reach  Limestone 
adoui  twelve  o'clock  that  night. 

Immediately  on  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Brooks,  Capt.  Hubbell, 
relieved  from  labor  and  responsibility,  sunk  under  the  weight 
of  pain  and  fatigue,  and  become  for  a  while  totally  insensible. 
Wn^n  Ae  boat  reached Ijimestone,  he  found  himself  unable  to 
walk,  and  was  obliged  to  be  carried  up  to  the  tavern.    Here 


I 


m 


mi'p. 


..I 


J' 


848 


CAPT.  HUBBELL'S  NARRATIVE. 


*     ' 


^^h 


\ 


I 


t- 


^ 


♦« 


he  bad  his  wound  dressed,  and  continued  several  days,  until 
he  acquired  sufficient  strength  to  proceed  hom&wards. 

On  the  arrival  of  our  party  at  Limestone,  they  found  a  con- 
siderable force  of  armed  men  about  to  march  against  the  same 
Indians,  from  whop'  attacks  they  had  so  severely  suffered. 
They  now  learned  tnat,  the  Sunday  preceding,  the  same  party 
of  savages  had  cut  jO  a  detachment  of  men  ascending  the  Ohio 
from  fort  Washirs'r.on,  at  the  mouth  of  Licking  river,  and  had 
killed  with  their  tomahawks,  without  firing  a  gun,  twenty-one 
out  of  twenty-two  men,  of  which  the  detachment  consisted. 

Crowds  of  people,  as  might  be  expected,  came  to  witness 
the  boat  which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  much  heroism,  sufifer^ 
ing,  and  horrid  carnage,  and  to  visit  the  resolute  little  band  by 
whom  it  had  been  so  gallantly  and  successfully  defended.  On 
examination  it  was  found  that  the  sides  of  the  boat  were  lite- 
rally filled  with  bullets  and  with  bullet-holes.  There  was 
scarcely  a  space  of  two  feet  square,  in  the  part  above  water, 
which  had  not  either  a  ball  remaining  in  it  or  a  hole  through 
which  a  ball  had  passed.  Some  persons,  who  had  the  curi- 
osity !;o  count  the  number  of  holes  in  the  blankets  which 
were  hung  up  as  curtains  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  affirmed 
that  in  the  space  of  five  feet  square  there  were  one  hundred 
and  twenty-two.  Four  horses  out  of  five  w^ere  killed,  and  the 
escape  of  the  fifth  amidst  such  a  shower  of  balls  appears  almost 
miraculous. 

The  day  after  the  arrival  of  Capt.  Hubbell  and  his  com- 
panions, the  five  remaining  boats,  which  they  had  passed  on 
the  night  preceding  the  battle,  reached  Limestone.  Those  on 
board  remarked  that  during  the  action  they  distinctly  saw  the 
flashes,  but  could  not  hear  the  reports  of  the  guns.  The  In- 
dians, it  appears,  had  met  with  too  formidable  a  resistance 
from  a  single  boat  to  attack  a  fleet,  and  suflered  them  to  pass 
unmolested:  and  since  that  time  it  is  believed  that  no  Doat 
has  been  assailed  by  Indians  on  the  Ohio. 

The  force  which  marched  out  to  disperse  this  formidable 
body  of  savages  discovered  severs^  Indians  dead  on  the  shore 
near  the  scene  of  action.  They  a^so  found  the  bodies  of  Capt. 
Greathouse  and  several  others,  men,  women,  and  children, 
who  had  been  on  board  of  his  boat.  Most  of  them  appeared 
to  have  been  whipped  to  death,  as  they  were  found  stripped, 
tied  to  trees,  and  marked  with  the  appearance  of  lashes,  and 
large  rods  which  seemed  to  have  been  worn  with  use  v.'3re 
observed  lying  near  them.  ,       ,# 

Such  is  the  plain  narra^ve  of  a  ttansaction  that  may  serve 
as  a  specimen  of  the  difficulties  and  dangen  to  which,  but  a 
few  years  since,  the  inhabitants  cf  this  now  flourishing  and 
beautiful  country  were  constantly  exposed.         ^< 


■  *-  iM 


ys,  until 

id  a  con- 
the  same 
suffered, 
me  party 
the  Ohio 

and  had 
enty-one 
isted. 
3  witness 
n,  suffer- 
f  band  by 
ded.  On 
were  lite- 
tiere  was 
ve  water, 
)  through 

the  curi- 
its  which 
,  affirmed 

hundred 
and  the 
irs  ahnost 

his  com- 
lassed  on 
Those  on 
saw  the 
The  In- 
'esistance 
to  pass 
,t  no  boat 

)rmidable 

I  the  shore 

of  Capt. 

children, 

appeared 

stripped, 

Ishes,  and 

luse  v.'are 

lay  serve 
ken,  but  a 
Ihing  and 


:«: 


019 


^&d 


AN    ACCOUNT 

OP  THE  SUFFERINGS  OF  MASSY  HERBESON,  AND  HER  FAMILY, 
WHO  W^RE  TAKEN  PRISONERS  BY  A  PARTY  OP  INDIANS. 
GIVEN  ON  OATH  BEFORE  JOHN  WILKINS,  ESQ.,  ONE  OP 
THE  JUSTICES  OF  THE  PEACE  FOR  T"E  COMMONWEALTH 
OP  PENNSYLVANIA.  .,,. 

-  Pittsburgh,  May  28,  1792. 

Massy  Herbeson,  on  her  oath,  according  to  law,  being 
taken  before  John  Wilkins,  Esq.,  one  of  ^he  commonwealth's 
justices  of  the  peace  in  and  for  the  county  of  Alleghany,  de- 
poseth  and  saith,  that  on  \he  22d  day  of  this  instant  she  was 
taken  from  her  own  house,«within  two  hundred  yards  of  Reed's 
block-house,  which  is  called  twenty-five  miles  from  Pittsburgh ; 
her  husband,  being  one  of  the  spies,  was  from  home ;  two  of 
the  scouts  had  lodged  with  her  that  night,  but  had  left  her 
house  about  sunrise,  in  order  to  go  to  the  block-house,  and  had 
left  the  door  standing  wide  open.  Shortly  after  the  two  scouts 
went  away,  a  number  o£  Indians  came  into  the  house  and  drew 
her  out  of  bed  by  the  feet ;  the  tpro  eldest  children,  who  alsa 
lay  in  another  bed,  weve  drawn  out  in  the  same  manner ;  a 
younger  child,  about  one  year  old,  slept  with  the  deponent.. 

30 


''i*^' 


'I, 


I 


''WJ  n 


! 


:..^i:a 


.)■ 


If 


350 


HERBESON,   1792. 


The  Indians  then  scrambled  about  the  articles  in  the  house ; 
when  they  were  at  this  work,  the  deponent  went  out  of  the 
house,  and  hollowed  to  the  people  in  the  block-hou:^e  ;  one  of 
the  Indianij  then  ran  up  and  stopped  her  mouih,  another  raa 
up  with  his  tomahawk  drawn,  and  a  third  rai;  and  'ixed  the 
tomahawk  and  r^alled  her  his  squaw ;  this  last  Jndlaa  claimed 
her  as  his,  and  continued  by  her.  About  fifteei?  of  the  indiaas 
then  ran  down  towards  the  block-house,  and  fir^d  their  guns 
at  the  block  and  store  house,  in  consequence  of  which  one  sol- 
dier was  killed,  and  anotier  wound  d,  one  having  been  at  the 
spring,  and  the  other  in  coming  or  looking  out  of  the  store- 
house. This  deponent  tlsen  told  the  Indians  thdre  were  about 
forty  men  in  the  nlock-hous^. ,  and  each  msn  had  two  gun?*  the 
Indians  then  went  to  them  that  were  firing*:  ac  the  block-huvse, 
and  broil jrht  them  back.  They  then  began  to  drive  the  depo- 
nent ar  i  bar  childrenaway  ;  but  a  boy  about  three  years  old, 
being  uuwiliitrg  to  leave  the  house,  they  took  by  the  heels,  and 
dashed  it  f.<7  >inst  the  house,  then  stabbed  and  scalped  it. 
They  therii  loc  k  the  deponent  and  the  two  other  children  to  the 
top  of  the  hill,  where  they  stopped  until  they  tied  up  the  plun- 
der tliey  had  got.  While  they  were  busy  about  this,  the  de- 
ponent counted  them,  and  the  number  amounted  to  thirty-two, 
including  two  white  men  that  were  with  theru,  painted  like 
the  Indians. 

That  several  of  the  Indians  could  speak  Englijh,  and  that 
she  knew  three  or  four  of  them  very  well,  having  often  seen 
them  go  up  and  down  the  Alleghany  river ;  two  of  them  she 
knew  to  be  Senecas,  and  two  Munsees.  who  had  got  their  guns 
mended  by  her  husband  about  two  yeals  ago.  That  they  sent 
two  Indians  with  her,  and  the  others  took  their  course  to\V>irds 
Puckty.  That  she,  the  children,  and  the  two  Indians  had  not 
gone  above  tWo  hundred  yards,  when  the  Indians  caught  two 
of  Jier  uncle's  horses,  put  her  and  the  youngest  child  on  one, 
and  one  of  the  Indians  and  the  other  child  on  the  other.  That 
the  two  Indians  then  took  her  and  the  children  to  the  AUegha- 
Wjfl^ti^i,  and  took  them  over  in  bark  canoes,  as  they  could  not 
get  the  horses  to  swim  the  river.  *After  they  had  crossed  the 
river,  the  oldest  child,  a  boy  of  about  five  years  of  age,  began 
^  to  mourn  for  his.  brother ;  one  of  the  Indians  then  tomahawked 
and  scalped  him.  That  they  travelled  all  day  very  hard,  ajpd 
that  night  arrived  at  a  large  camp  covered  with  bark,  which, 
by  appearance,  might  hold  fifty  men ;  that  the  camp  appeare'd 
to  have  been  occupied  some  time,  it  was  very  much  beaten,  and 
large  beaten  paths  went  out  JH  diflferent  directions  from  it;  that 
night  they  took  her  about  thrte  hundred  yards  from  the  camp, 
into  a  large  dark  bottom,  bound  her  arms,  gave  her  some  bed 


.  ^*- 


41 


*       %: 


JL 


HERBESON,   1792. 


361 


;  house ; 

It  of  the 
;  ons  of 
tther  xaa 
!ized  the 

claimed 
;  ind;aus 
leir  guns 

one  sol- 
en  at  the 
he  store- 
ixe  about 
fnnr-'  the 
;k-hn.iise, 
^he  depo- 
rears  old, 
eels,  and 
alped  it. 
en  to  the 
the  plun- 
s,  the  de- 
lirty-two, 
gated  like 


and  that 
ften  seen 
them  she 
leir  guns 
hey  sent 
towards 
had  not 
ght  two 
on  one. 
That 
Allegha- 
ould  not 
)ssed  the 
e,  began 
hawked 
ard,  £u;id 
c,  which, 
ppeare'd 
ten,  and 
it;  that 
Le  camp, 
lOiDe  bed 


clothes,  and  lay  down  one  on  each  side  of  her.  That  the  next 
morning  they  took  her  into  a  thicket  on  the  hilUside,  and  one 
remained  with  her  till  the  middle  of  the  day,  while  the  other 
went  to  watch  the  path,  lest  some  white  people  should  follow 
them.  They  then  exchanged  places  during  the  remainder  of 
the  day.  She  got  a  piece  oi  dry  venison,  about  the  bulk  of  an 
egg,  that  day,  and  a  piece  about  the  same  size  the  day  they 
were  marching.  That  evening,  (Wednesday,  the  23d, y  they 
moved  her  to  a  new  place,  and  secured  her  as  the  night  before. 
During  the  day  of  the  23d,  she  made  several  attempts  to  get 
the  Indian's  gun  or  tomahawk,  that  was  guarding  her,  and, 
could  she  have  got  either,  she  would  have  put  him  to  death. 
She  was  nearly  detected  in  trying  to  get  the  tomahawk  from 
his  belt. 

The  next  morning  (Thursday)  /)ne  of  the  Indians  went  out 
as  on  the  day  before  to  watch  the  path.  The  other  lay  down 
and  fell  asleep.  When  she  found  he  was  sleeping,  she  stole 
her  short  gown,  handkerchief  and  a  child's  frock,  and  then  made 
her  escape.  The  sun  was  then  about  half  an  hour  high.  That 
she  took  her  course  from  the  Alleghany,  in  order  to  deceive  the 
Indians,  as  they  would  ^naturally  pursue  her  that  way;  that 
day  she  travelled  along  Conoquenessing  creek.  The  next  day 
she  altered  her  course,  and,  hs  she  believes,  fell  upon  the  waters 
of  Pine  creek,  which  empties  into  the  Alleghany.  Thinking 
this  not  her  best  course,  took  over  some  dividing  ridges,  fell 
in  on  the  heads  of  Squaw  run,  she  lay  on  a  dividing  ridge  on 
Friday  night,  and  on  Saturday  came  to  Squaw  run,  continued 
down  the  ru^  lentil  sy^  Indian,  or  some  other  person,  shot  at  a 
deer ;  she  saw  the  person  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
from  her,  the  deer  running  and  the  dog  pursuing  it,  which,  from 
the  appearance,  she  supposed  to  be  an  Indian  dog. 

She  then  altered  her  course,  but  again  came  to  the  same  run, 
and  continued  down  it  until  she  got  so  tired  that  she  was 
obliged  to  lie  down,  it  having  rained  on  her  all  that  day  and 
the  night  before.  She  lay  there  that  night ;  it  rained  constantly. 
On  Sunday  morning  she  proceeded  down  the  run  until  she 
came  to  the  Alleghany  rfver,  and  continued  down  the  river  till 
sh^  came  opposite  to  Carter's  house,  on  the  inhabited  side, 
where  she  made  a  poise,  and  James  Closier  brought  her  ov€f 
the  river  to  Carter's  house. 

This  deponent  further  says  that,  in  conversing  with  one  of 
the  Indians,  that  could  talk  English  very  well,  which  she  sus- 
pects to  be  George  lelloway,  he  asked  her  if  she  knew  the 
prisoner  that  was  taken  by  JefHib  and  his  Senecas,  and  in  jail 
in  Pittsburgh.  She  ani^ercd  no ;  he  said,  you  lie.  She  again 
said  she  knew  nothing  about  him ;  he  said  she  did,  that  he  was 


. 


3fl2 


SERGEANT  MUNSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


i^ 


a  spy,  and  a  great  captain ;  that  he  took  Butlev's  scalp,  and 
that  they  would  have  him  or  twenty  scalps ;  he  again  said  that 
they  would  exchange  for  him ;  that  he  and  two  more  were  sent 
out  to  see  what  the  Americans  were  doing ;  that  they  came 
round  from  Detroit  to  Venango.  The  Indian  took  paper,  and 
showed  her  that  he,  at  fort  Pitt,  could  write  and  draw  on  it ; 
he  also  asked  her  if  a  campaign  was  going  out  against  the  In- 
dians  this  summer ;  she  said  no.  He  called  her  a  liar,  and 
said  they  were  going  out,  and  that  the  Indians  would  serve 
them  as  they  did  last  year;  he  also  said  the  English  had  guns, 
ammunition,  &c.  to  give  them  to  go  to  war,  and  that  they  had 
given  them  plenty  last  year ;  this  deponent  also  says  that  she 
saw  one  of  the  Indians  have  Capt.  Crib's  sword,  which  she 
well  knew.  That  one  of  the  Indians  asked  her  if  she  knew 
Thomas  Girty ;  she  said  she  did  ;  he  then  said  that  Girty  lived 
near  fort  Pitt ;  that  he  was  a  good  man,  but  not  as  good  as  his 
brother  at  Detroit ;  l>ut  that  his  wife  was  a  bad  woman ;  she 
tells  lies  on  the  Indians,  and  is  a  friend  to  America.  Swori» 
before  me  the  day  and  year  first  above  Mrritten. 

..JOHN  WILKINS. 


NARRATIVE, 


??• 


',»■■ 


IV 


OP  THE  CAPTIVITY  AND  ESCAPE  OP  SERGEANT  LENT  BfUN- 
SON,  WHO  PELL  INTO  THE  HANDS  QF  THE  WESTERN  IN- 
DIANS AT  THE  TIME  OP  LIEUT.  LOWRY'S  DEFEAT.  ^  ^ 

As  Lieut.  Lowry  and  ensign  Boyd,  with  about  one  hundred 
men,  were  escorting  two  hundred  and  fifty  pack  horses  with 
provisions  from  fort  St.  Clair  to  General  Wayne's  camp,  (six 
miles  in  advance  of  fort  Jefferson,)  they  were  furiously  assailed 
by  about  half  Aeir  number  of  concealed  Indians,  and  totally 
defeated.  They  had  encamped  fotff  miles  on  their  journey  on 
the  ni^ht  of  the  16th  of  October,  1793,  and  were  sufficiently 
warned  during  the  whole  night  of  what  they  had  to  undergo  at 
Mrly  dawn.  However,  no  attack  was  made  until  the  detach- 
ment was  about  ready  to  march  on  the  morning  of  the  17thi 
At  thts  juncture  the  Indians  rushed  upon  them  with  great  fury, 
and  after  a  short  but  bloody  engagement  the  whites  were  dis- 
persed in  every  direction.  In  this  oftet  Lieut.  Lowry  and 
ensign  Boyd  both  fell  mortalllfwounded,  and  about  twenty  of 
(heir  men  were  among  the  siain.  The'  rest  of  this  unfortwrtate 
escort,  excepting  eleven,  who  were  t^en  prisoners,  got  back  to 


l^# 


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indrecl 
with 
>,  (six 
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ick  to 


•  1 
SERGEANT  BtUNSON'S  CAPTIVITY. 


363 


fort  St.  Clair.     To  the  smallness  of  the  number  of  the  Indians 
is  to  be  attributed  the  escape  of  any. 

Sergeant  Munson  was  one  of  the  eleven  prisoners,  and  was 
hurried  off  with  his  companions  towards  the  country  of  the 
Ottawas,  to  which  nation  of  Indians  this  party  belonged.  They 
had  not  proceeded  far  when  one  of  the  prisoners,  being  but  a 
boy,  and  weakly,  was  murdered  and  left  on  the  way.  The 
remaining  ten  w^ere  then  distributed  among  their  captors. 
These  all  had  their  heads  shaved,  which  among  the  Ottawas 
denoted  they  were  to  serve  as  slaves. 

The  reiroence  of  these  Indians  was  upon  the  river  then  called 
the  Maumee,  since,  the  Miami  of  the  lakes,  about  thirty  miles 
from  its  mouth  at  lake  Erie.  Here  Mr.  Munson  was  kept 
until  the  next  June,  performing  the  drudgery  of  the  Indians, 
without  anything  very  remarkable,  for  eight  months,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  he  mad6  his  escape  in  the  following  iftanner : — 
He  had  learned  so  much  of  their  language  that  ne  ()ould  un- 
derstand much  of  their  conversation,  and  he  now  leahied  that 
they  were  highly  elttted  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  and  cutting 
ofT  the  army  of  Gen.  W^yne,  as  they  had  that  of  Harmer  and 
St.  Clair  before.  They  Coasted  that  "  they  were  fifteen  hun- 
dred strong,  and  that  they  weuld  soon  cut  Wayne's  army  to 
pieces."  They  talked  with  the  utmost  contempt  of  the  whites; 
said  they  lied  about  their  numbers,  and  that,"  their  armies  were 
made  up  of  cowards  and  boys." 

The  warriors  were  now  preparing  to  march  to  the  All  Olaize, 
to  make  a  stand  against  Gen.  Wayne,  and  Mr.  Munson  anx- 
iously awaited  their  departure,  hoping  by  their  absence  he  might 
take  advantage  and  escape.  His  wishes  were  soon  gratified; 
fo  on  the  12th  of  June,  1794,  the  warriors  left  the  village,  and 
he  took  every  precaution  for  flight.  Accordingly,  five  days 
after,  having  prepared  a  canoe  several  miles  below  the  village, 
on  the  river,  under  pretence  of  a  hunting  expedition  he  escaped 
to  it,  and  in  the  night  made  all  the  exertions  he  was  master  of 
to  reach  the  lake,  which  he  did  in  two  nights ;  not  daring  to 
sail  during  the  day,  for  fear'of  discovery,  but  slyly  drawing  up 
his  canoe  at  the  approach  of  morning,  patiently  wai^  ed  until 
the  next  night.  And  thus  he  found  his  way  to  Niagara,  and 
thence  to  his  friends  in  Connecticut,  without  material  accident,r 


where  he  arrived 
months'  captivity. 


towards  the  end  of  July,  1794,  after  eight 


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NARRATIVE 


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t 


OP  THE  ESCAPE  OF  RANSOM  CLARK,  (OP  LIVINGSTON  COUN- 
TY, NEW  YORK,)  FROM  THE  MASSACRE  IN  WHICH  MAJOR 
DADE  AND  HIS  COMMAND  WERE  CUT  OFF  BY  THE  SEMI- 
NOLE INDIANS,  IN  FLORIDA,  on  the  2ath  Dec.  1836;  as  communi- 
cated by  himself,  while  on  a  visit  to  Boston  in  the  summer  of  1837,  to  the 
editor  of  the  Morning  Post. 


[A  fun  and  particular  history  of  the  Florida  War  will  be  found  in  my 
Book  of  the  Indians,  together  with  other  Indian  affairs. — Ed.] 

Our  detachment,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  seventeen 
men,  under  command  of  Major  Dade,  started  from  fort  Brooke, 
Tampa  Bay,  on  the  23a  of  December,  and  arrived  at  the  scene 
of  action  about  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  28th.  It 
was  on  the  edge  of  a  pond,  three  miles  from  the  spot  where  we 
had  bivouacked  on  the  night  previous.  The  pond  was  sur- 
rounded by  tall  grass,  brush  and  small  trees.  A  moment  be- 
fore we  were  surprised,  l^ajor  Dade  said  to  us,  ••  We  have  now 
got  through  all  danger  ;**  keep  up  good  heart,  and  when  we  get 
to  fort  King,  I  '11  give  you  three  days  for  Christmas." 

At  this  time  we  were  in  a  path  or  trail  on  the  border  of  the 
pond,  and  the  first  notice  that  we  received  of  the  presence  of 
the  enemy  was  the  discharge  of  a  rifle  by  their  chief,  aa(  a  sig- 
nal to  commence  the  attack.  The  pond  was  on  our  right,  and 
the  Indians  were  scattiered  round,  m  a  semicircle,  on  our  left, 
in  the  rear  and  in  advance,  reaching  at  the  two  latter  points 
to  the  edge  of  the  pond;  but  leaving  an  opening  for  our  en- 
trance on  the  path,  and  a  similar  opening  on  the  other  extrem- 
ity for  the  egress  of  our  advance  guard,  v/hich  was  permitted 
to  pass  through  without  being  fired  on,  and  of  <.ourse  uncon- 
scious of  the  ambuscade  through  which  they  had  marched. 
At  the  time  of  the  attack  this  guard  was  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in 
advance,  the  main  body  following  in  coltimn  two  deep.  The 
chief's  rifle  was  followed  b|^a  general  discharge  from  his  men, 
and  Major  Dade,  Captain  Frazier  and  Lieut.  Mudge,  together 
with  several  non-commissioned  officers  and  privates,  were 
brought  down  by  the  first  volley.  Our  rear  guard  had  a  six- 
pounder,  which,  as  soon  d,s  possible,  was  hauled  up,  and  brought 
to  bear  upon  the  ground  occupied  by  the  unseen  enemy,  se- 
creted among  the  Jitbss,  brush,  and  trees.  The  discharge  ^f 
the  cannon  checkeCfl4ll  made  them  fall  back  for  about  half  an 
hour.  About  twelve  of  us  advfticed  and  brought  in  our  dead. 
Among  the  wounded  was  Lieut.  Mudge,  who  was  speechless. 


.?■ 


ESCAPE  OP  RANSOM  CLARK. 


*'Xir 


We  set  him  ud  against  ft  tree,  and  he  was  found  there  two 
months  after,  when  Gen.  Gaines  sent  a  detachment  to  bory  the 
bodies  of  our  soldiers.  All  hands  then  commenced  throwing 
Up  a  small  triangular  breastwork  of  logs  ;  but,  just  as  we  had 
raised  it  about  two  feet,  the  Indians  returned  and  renewed  the 
engagement.  A  part  of  our  ^yjops  fought  within  the  breast- 
work,  and  a  part  outside.  I  rem'amed  outside  till  I  received  a 
.  ball  in  my  right  arm,  and  another  near  my  right  temple,  which 
came  out  at  the  top  of  my  head.  I  next  received  a  snot  in  my 
thigh,  which  brought  me  down  on  my  side,  and  I  then  got  into  -^ji, 
the  breastwork.  We  gave  them  forty-nine  discharges  from  the 
cannon  ;  and  while  loading  for  the  fiftieth,  and  the  last  shot  we 
had,  our  match  went  out.  The  Indi(in»>chiefly  levelled  at  the 
men  who  worked  the  cannon.  In  the  mean  time  the  main  body 
of  our  troops  kept  up  a  general  fire  with  musketry. 

The  loss  of  the  enemy  must  have  been  very  great,  because 
we  never  fired  until  we  fixed  on  our  men ;  but  the  cannon  was 
joiecessarily  fired  at  random,  as  only  two  c^  three  Indians  ap- 
peared together.  When  the  firing  commenced,  the  van-guard 
wheeled,  and,  in  returning  to  the  main  body,  were  entirely  cut 
lip.  The  battle  lasted  till  about  fouif^n  the  afternoon,  and  I 
Was  about  the  last  man  who  handled  a  gun,  while  lying  on  my 
side.  At  the  close  I  received  a  shot-  in  tny  right  shoulder, 
which  passed  into  my  lungs ;  the  blood*  gushed  out  of  my 
mouth^n  a  stream, %ndt  dropping  my  musket.  I  rolled  over  ori 
my  face.  The  Indians  then  entered  the  bfealtwork,  but  found 
not  one  man  standing  to  defend  it.  l^ey  secured  the  arms, 
ammunition,  and  the  cannon,  and  despatched  such  of  our  fallen 
soldiers  us  they  supposed  still  to  be  alive.  Their  negroe^  then 
came  in  to  strip  the  dead.  I  had  by  this  time  somewhat  t9(^» 
ed,  and  a  negro,  observing  that  I  was  hot  dead,  took  up  a  nius- 
ket,  and  shot  me  in  the  top  of  the  shoulder,  jind  the  ball  came 
put  at  my  back.  After  firing,  h^  said,  "  Dere,  d — n  you,  take 
dat."  He  then  stripped  me  of  every  thing  but  my  shirt. 
^  The  enemy  then  disappeared  to  the  left  of  the  pond,  and, 
dlrough  weakness  and  apprehensioi,  I  remained  still,  till  about 
nine  o'clock  at  night.  I  then  commenced  crawling  on  my 
knees  and  left  hand.  As  I  was  crawling  over  the  dead,  I  put 
my  hand  on  one  man  who  felt  different  from  the  rest ;  he  was 
warm  and  limber.  I  roused  him  uf,'^and  found  it  was  De 
Courcy,  an  Englishman,  and  the  soa  of  a  British  officer,  resi- 
dent in  Canada.  I  told  him  that  it  was;^st  for  .us  to  attempt 
totravel,  as  the  danger  appeared  to  be  a||^#and  we  might  fall 
in  with  assistance.  ^      •  ** 

As  he  was  only  Wounded  in  the  side  and  arm,  he  could  walk 
ft  littlie.    We  got  along  as  well  as  we  could  that  night,  contin- 


•c  ?. 


■■*• 


THOMPSON'S  ESCAPE. 


2B7 


e  two 

ry  the 

owinff 

re  had  ^^ 

ed  th« 

breast- 

>ived  a 
which 
in  my  .. 

rot  into  -f,. 

om  the 

shot  we 

\  at  the 

in  body 

because 
ion  was 
ians  ap- 
n-cuard 
rely  cut 
n,  and  t 
I  on  my 
boulder, 
of  my 
over  on 
It  found 
arms, 
ir  fallen 
)e^  then 
tr^- 
a  nitis- 
lU  came 
lu,  take 
t. 

id,  and, 

II  about 

on  my 

|d,  I  put 

e  was 

as  De 

ir,  resi- 

Lttempt 

;ht  fall 

|d  walk 
I  contin- 


ued on  till  next  noon,  when,  on  a  rising  around,  we  observed 
an  Indian  ahead,  on  horseback,  loading  his  rifle.  We  agreed 
that  he  should  go  on  one  side  of  the  road  and  I  on  the  other. 
The  Indian  took  after  De  Courcy,  and  I  heard  the  discharge 
of  his  rifle.  This  gave  me  time  to  crawl  into  a  hammock  and 
hide  away.  The  Indian  soon  r  jrned  with  his  arms  and  legs 
covered  with  blood,  having,  no  doubt,  according  to  custom,  cut 
De  Courcy  to  pieces  after  bringing  him  down  with  his  rifle. 
The  Indian  came  riding  through  the  brush  in  pursuit  of  me, 
and  approached  within  ten  feet,  but  gave  up  the  search.  I 
then  resumed  my  route  back  to  fort  Brooke,  crawled  and  limped 
through  the  nights  and  forenoons,  and  slept  in  the  brush  dur- 
ing the  middle  of  the  dity,  with  no  other  nourishment  tlian  cold 
water.  I  got  to  fort  Brooke  on  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day ; 
and  in  five  months  afterwards  was  discharged  as  %  pensioner, 
at  eight  dollars  per  month.  The  doctor  attributes 'my  not  dy- 
ing of  my  wounds  to  the  circumstance  that  I  bled  a  good  deal, 
and  did  not  partake  of  any  solid  food  during  the  five  first  days. 
Two  other  soldiers,  l^'lhe  names  of  Thomas  and  Sprague, 
also  came  in  afterwards.  ^  Although  badly  wounded^  they  as- 
cended a  tree,  and  thus  oscaped  the  epemy,  on  the  evening  of 
the  battle.  They  joined  another  expedition,  two  months  after, 
but  before  their  wou^iS  were  healed,  and  they  soon  died  of 
them.  »#  ^  ^ 

THE^FOLLOWINQ 

D. 

NARRATIVE  OP  ONE  OP  THE  MOST  EXTRAORDINARY  ES- 
C^fES  PROM  A  DREADPUL  DEATH,  ANYWHERE  RECORDED, 
IS  CONTAINED  IN  A  LETTER  WRITTEN  BY  THE  SUFFERER 
TO  THE  EDITOR  OP  THE  CHARLESTON  (S.  C.)  COURIER, 
IMMEDIATELY  A^ER  IT  HAPPENED.  IT  TOOK  PLACE  AT 
CAPE  FLORIDA  LIGHTHOUSE,  IN  1830. 

On  the  23d  of  July  last,  about  four  P.  M.,  as  I  w^as  going 
from  the  kitchen  to  the  dwelling-house,  I  discovered  a  large 
body  of  Indians  within  twenty  yards  of  me,  back  of  the  kitch- 
en. I  ran  for  the  lighthouse,  and  called  out  to  the  old  negro 
man  that  was  with  me  Jto  run,  for  the  Indians  were  near;  at 
that  moment  they  dischar^d  a  volley  of  rifle  balls,  which  cut 
my  clothes»and  hat,  and  perforated  the  door  in  many  places. 
We  got  in,  and*  as  Iw'^  turning  the  key  the  savages  had  hold* 
of  the  door.  I  statiS^eiHthe^egro  at  the  door,  with  orders  to 
let  me  know  if  they  attempted  to  break  in ;  I  then  took  my 
three  muskets,  which  were  loaded  with  ball  and  buck-shot,  and 
went  to  the  second  window.     Seeing  ^  large  body  of  them  op« 


* 


» 


358 


ESCAPE   OF 


1^ 


I 


#  v^ 


». 


if 


'.-^ 


■i* 


■; 


posite  the  dwelling-house,  I  discharged  my  muskets  in  succes- 
sion among  them,  which  put  them  in  some  confusion ;  they 
then,  for  the  second  time,  began  their  horrid  yells,  and  in  a 
minute  no  sash  or  glass  was  left  at  the  window,  for  they  vented 
their  rage  at  that  spot.  I  fired  at  them  from  some  of  the  other 
windows,  and  from  the  top  of  the  house ;  in  fact,  I  fired  when- 
ever I  could  get  an  Indian  for  a  mark.  I  kept  them  from  the 
house  until  dark. 

They  then  poured  in  a  heavy  fire  at  all  the  windv^ws  and 
lantern  ;  that  was  the  time  they  set  fire  to  the  door  and  window 
even  with  the  ground.  The  window  was  boarded  up  with  plank 
and  filled  up  with  stone  inside  ;  bjut  the  flames  spread  fast, 
being  fed  with  yellow  pine  wood.  Their,  balls  had  perforated 
the  tin  tanks  of  oil,  consisting  of  two.  hundred  and  twenty-five 
gallons  ;  my  bedding,  clothing,  and  in  fact  every  thing  I  had, 
was  soaked  in  oil.  I  stopped  at  the  door  until  driven  away  by 
the  flames.  I  then  took  a  keg  of  gunpowder,  my  balls,  and 
one  musket  to  the  top  of  the  house,  then*went  below,  and  be- 

fan  to  cut  away  the  stairs  about  haliFway  up  from  the  bottom, 
had  difficulty  in  getting  the  old  ^legro  up  the  space  I  had 
already  cut ;  but  the  flames  now  "droire  me./rom  my  labor,  and 
I  retreated  to  the  top  of  the  house.  I*  toxei^ed  over  the  scuttle 
that  leads  to  the  lantern,  which  kept  (he^  fire  from  me  for  some 
time ;  at  last  the  #wful  moment  arrived,  the  crackling  flames 
burrit  around  me,  the  savages  at  the  sanip  time  began  their 
hellish  ydCts.  My  poor  old  negro  looked  ro  me  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  but  ^uld  not  speak ;  we  w^t  out  of  the  lantern,  and 
lay  down  on  ine  edge  of  the  platform,  two  feat  wide ;  the  lan- 
tern now  was  full  of  flame,  the  lamps  and  glasses  bursting  and 
flying  in  all  directions,  my  clothes  on  fire,  and  to  mov^^om 
the  place  where  I  was  would  be  instant  death  from  their'^'rifles. 
My  flesh  was  roasting,  and  to  put  an  end  to  my  Horrible  suf- 
fering, I  got  up,  threw  the  keg  of  gunpowder  down  the  scuttle 
— instantly  it  exploded,  and  shook  the  tower  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom.  It  had  not  the  desired  effect  of  blowing  me  into 
eternity,  but  it  threw  down  the  stairs  and  all  the  Mfooden  work 
near  the  top  of  the  house  ;  it  darrlped  the  fire  for  a  moment, 
but  it  soon  blazed  as:  fierce  as  ever ;  the  negro  man  said  he  was 
wounded,  which  was  the  last  word  h^spoke. 

By  this  time  I  had  received  som^'ounds  myself;  and  find- 
ing no  chance  for  my  life,  foi;,  I  was  joasting  al^ve-  I  took  the 
determination  to  jump  ofT.  T  got  upgp^nt  outside  the  iron 
railing,  recommending  my  soul  to  Qlhii^^d  was  on  the  point 
of  going  fcead  for|?most  on  the  *  oclcsT)ffbw,  when  something 
dictated  to  me  to  return  and  lie  down  again.  I  did  so,  and  in 
two  minuiBS  the  fire  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  house.     It  is  a 


# 


^w 


1  succes- 
on ;  they 
and  in  a 
;y  vented 
the  other 
ed  when- 
from  the 

dv^ws  and 
i  window 
nih  plank 
iread  fast, 
)erforated 
TCnty-five 
ng  I  had, 
I  away  by 
balls,  and 
r,  and  be- 
lie bottom, 
lace  I  had 
labor,  and 
,he  scuttle 
J  for  some 
ng  flames 
sgan  their 
h  tears  in 
Item,  and 
;  the  Ian- 
sting  and 
ovi^^om 
eiAifles. 
rible  suf- 
,e  scuttle 
ho  top  to 
me  into 
en  work 
moment, 
d  he  was 

md  find- 
took  the 
[the  iron 
the  point 
|>mething 
and  in 
It  is  a 


JOHN  W.  B.  THOMPSON. 


359 


remarkable  circumstance,  that  not  one  ball  struck  me  when  I 
stood  up  outside  the  railing,  although  they  were  flying  all 
around  me  like  hail-stones.  I  found  the  old  negro  man  dead, 
being  shot  in  several  places,  and  literally  roasted.  A  few 
minutes  after  the  fire  fell,  a  stiff"  breeze  sprung  up  from  the  south- 
ward, which  was  a  great  blessing  to  me.  I  had  to  lie  where  I 
was,  for  I  could  not  walk,  having  received  six  rifle  balls,  three 
in  each  foot.  The  Indians,  thinking  me  dead,  left  the  light- 
house, and  set  fire  to  the  dwelling-house,  kitchen  and  other 
out-houses,  and  began  to  carry  their  plunder  to  the  beach ;  they 
took  all  the  empty  barrels,  the  drawers  of  the  bureaus,  and  in 
fact  every  thing  that  would  act  as  a  vessel  to  hold  any  thing ; 
my  provisions  were  in  the  lighthouse,  except  a  barrel  of  flour, 
which  they  took  off".  The  next  morning  they  hauled  out  of 
the  lighthouse,  by  means*'of  a  pole,  the  tin  that  composed  the 
oil  tanks,  na  doubt  to  make  grates  to  manufacture  the  coonty 
root  into  what  we  call  arrow  root.  After  loading  my  little 
sloop,  about  ten  or  tvyelve  went  icto  her ;  the  rest  took  to  the 
beach  to  meet  at  the  othoftf^pnd  of  the  island.  This  happened, 
as  I  judge,  about  ter^,  *A.  M.  My  eyes  being  much  affected, 
prevented  me  from  knowiii^  their  actual  force,  but  I  judge  there 
were  from  forty  to  MtyntTaerh  aps  more.  I  v/as  now  almost  as 
bad  off  as  before  ;  at^^mn?  f  3vpr  on  me,  my  feet  shot  to  pieces, 
no  clothes  to  cover  me,  nothmi?  to  eat  or  drijik,  a  hot  sun  over- 
head, a  dead  man  bv  my  side,  no  friend  near  or  any  to  expect, 
and  placed  betweerflfeel^enty  and  eighty  feet  from  theejj^lj,  and 
no  chance  of  gettiwg  dofy^n,  my  situation  was  truly  hoctible. 
About  twelve  o'clock,  1  ifcought  I  could  perceive  a  vessel  nR  far 
off;  I  took  a  pieie  of  the  old  negro's  trowsers  that  had  escaped 
the  fl[vnes  by  being  wet  with  blood,  and  made  a  signal. 

Somt  time  in  the  afternoon,  I  saw  two  boats  with  my  sloop 
in  fow  coming  to  the  landing.  I  had  no  doubt  but  they  were 
Inaians,  having  seen  my  signal,  and  had  returned  to  finish 
their  murderous  design  :  but  it  proved  to  be  boats  of  the  United 
States  schooner  Motto,  Capt.  Armstrong,  with  a  detachment 
of  seamen  and  marines,  under  the  command  of  Lieut.  Lloyd', 
of  ^he  sloop-of-war  Concord.  They  had  retaken  my  sloop, 
after  the  Indians  had  stripped  her  of  her  sails  and  rigging,  and 
every  thing  of  consequence  belonging  to  her;  they  informed 
me  they  heard  my  explosion  twelve  miles  off,  and  ran  down  to 
my  assistance,  but  did  not  expect  to  find  me  alive.     Thos6 

"  " ' power  to  relieve  me,  hit,  night  com- 

jard  the  Motto,  after  assuring  me  of 

Next  morning,  Monday,  July  5,  three  boats  landed,  among 
them  Capt.  Cole,  of  the  schooner  Pee  "Dee,  from  "Nsw  York. 


gentlemen  did  *all  in  th  ^ 
ing  on,  they  returnedi^ 
their  assistance  in  th  " 


t*v 


"<, 


m 


.#" 


360 


THOMPSON'S  ESCAPE. 


i^' 


They  had  made  a  kite  during  the  night,  to  get  a  line  to  me, 
but  without  effect;  they  then  fired  twine  from  'their  muskets, 
made  fast  to  a  ramrod,  which  I  received,  and  hauled  up  a  tail* 
block  and  made  fast  round  an  iron  stanchion,  rove  the  twine 
through  the  block,  and  they  below,  by  that  means,  rove  a  two- 
inch  rope,  and  hoisted  up  two  mei^,  who  soon  landed  ifte  on 
terra  firma.  I  must  state  here,  that  the  Indians  had  made  a 
ladder,  by  lashing  pi|fies  of  wood  across  the  lightning  rod,  near 
forty  feet  from  the  ground,  as  if  to  have  my  scalp,  nolens  vo- 
lens.  This  happened  on  the^fourth.  After  I  got  on  board  the 
Motto,  every  man,  from  the  captain  to  the  cook,  tried  to  alle- 
viate my  sufferings.  On  the  seventh,  I  was  received  in  the 
military  hospital,  through  the  politeness  'of  Lieut.  Alvord,  of 
the  fourth  regiment  of  United  States  Infantry.  He  has  done 
every  thing  to  make  my  situation  as  comfortable  as  possible. 

I  mustliot  omit  here  lo  return  my  thanks  to  the  cit&ens  of 
Key  West,  generally,  for  their  sympathy  and  kind  offers  of  any 
thing  I  would  wish,  that  it  ^&s  in  their  power  to  bestow.  Be- 
fore  1  left  Key  West,  two  balls  werete^jtracted,  and  one  remains 
in  my  right  leg;  but,  sincfi  1  am  un !er  'thie  icare  of  Dr.  Rdn- 
aey,  who  has  paid  every  attentiorf*  to  me,  he  will  know  best 
whether"^  to  extract  it.  <#  not.  ^.        ♦ 

'  These  liniss  are  written  to  let  rtky  friends  know  that  I  am 
■tUlinthe  land  oLi;heUvii%,  and  an#now  in  Charleston,  S.  C, 
wfiire  eygry  attemiou  is  paid  me.    Although  a  crippU,  I  can 
Mt  IIK7  ;ftul>wance,  and  walk  about  withMilfthe  use  of  a  cane. 
'*■    Respectfully  yours,       j^ 

JOI»ll|F.  B.  THOMPSON. 


■  ff^r 


